Invisible Swan
by RMacaroni
Summary: "Music is for the ears, not the eyes."
1. Fedora

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

I had never seen Charlie cry before.

Charlie, my father, had cried when he dropped me off at school.

That's right. I was finally going to college, and majoring in music! My dream come true.

Fortunate enough to have been awarded a scholarship, I had nothing to keep me from fulfilling my dream. Well, nothing except my nerves and my general fear of performing in public. Which is why I'm letting Rosalie drag me to this open mic bar.

Rosalie, my roommate, is a theater major and the actual opposite of me. Where she confidently strides in high-heels and a minidress, I hunch under my hoodie and drag my dirtied Chucks. We are nothing alike, and I would be lying if I say I didn't almost have a coronary when I walked in what was supposed to be our room. Between the N'sync playing, coconut splash smell, and over the top decoration, I almost walked right out.

She's taken with me though, maybe as a charity case? I don't know. But I guess she isn't that bad... Faking an allergy, I have at least convinced her to cease with the fruit scented incense sticks. With her musical taste, I've had no such luck. Also, she talks — a lot — which would otherwise be annoying, except her anecdotes give my no-life-self something to tell my mother when she inquires about college.

Even just now, as we walk the four blocks from our apartment to Collegetown, she hasn't stopped talking. I nod and smile in her direction as she gives me a detailed description of what Prof MacCarty was wearing today.

Anyway… she says my "problem" is being unnecessarily shy, and the open mic was the only one of her ideas I found marginally acceptable, with the only condition that I wouldn't be forced to perform. She didn't leave me any choice, some of her options included hair curling and eyebrow waxing.

She did have a point though, people in open mics would just get up and sing, and I needed to learn how to do just that. But I'm not even remotely ready yet, and I'm still having second thoughts as we walk in.

The place is small but it's not too crowded. There's someone who's about to start singing, already sitting on a metal chair on the stage. A guitar in his lap, the mic lowered to his face. We take our seats on the back, and I roll my eyes at the two guys who immediately come to hit on Rosalie, one even has his back to me, completely unaware of my presence.

_Bella Swan, forever invisible._

I forget about Rosalie and her two admirers as soon as the music starts at the other end of the bar. The singer's fingers move effortlessly, in a mesmerizing way, through the intricate chords of his acoustic guitar solo. My eyes trace his arm and the veins and tendons that become more apparent as he strums his guitar. The sleeves of a light-pink button up end rolled up at his elbows.

He begins singing then, and the melody slipping from his lips glue me to his face. His face... even though hidden under a fedora and Raybans is a sight to behold. A light brown mess of hair is sticking from under his hat, and dark sideburns run down almost to his earlobe.

His voice is raspy and captivating. The emotion sips through the lyrics. I don't know the song though, must be an original, but I am immediately taken to the tune.

_This guy is good!_

Another intricate guitar solo and he's not even looking down at his instrument, but right at me.

RIGHT. AT. ME.

_Invisible Swan, no more!_

Well, I can't really tell if he's looking at me or not, since he's wearing shades, but he's gazing in my general direction. It feels like he's staring at me.

What's with musicians and wearing sunglasses indoors?

I, of course, immediately blush and stare at my feet as he finishes his song.

_Jesus, Swan, the ONE guy aware of your existence and you can't even hold his gaze._

I might have bigger issues than originally thought.

I pull at the sleeves of my hoodie and bite my lip, as people cheer for the fedora-wearing, Rayban and sideburns, majesty of a guy, while I gather enough courage to look up.

A short, dark-haired girl is with him now as he gathers his stuff and walk out of the stage side by side.

Of course...

A pang of jealousy consumes me as I observe them carefully from my hidden spot at the back of the bar. She never touches him though, but walks very closely to him. She is speaking to him, narrating almost, without getting any answer from him.

_What's with them?_

Their body language is bizarre. She seems overprotective of him, like she's ready to catch him, as if she expects him to falter on the next step.

I wish she would just back off.

I roll my eyes at my silliness. One of the reasons I don't speak a lot is because I'm afraid to let out the atrocities that go on in my brain.

"Bella, you're drooling."

"What?!" I turn to Rosalie, my hand wiping my mouth out of instinct, even though I'm pretty sure I wasn't drooling.

"Go talk to him," she instructs.

"Why would I go talk to him?"

"Why not?"

"I... I don't know."

"Either that or a Brazilian wax." Her eyes shine mischievously at her demonic suggestion.

"Do I even want to know what that is?"

"Jesus, Bella! Just go talk to the guy." She nods in the direction of the bar, where Fedora is now sitting by himself.

I start pulling at my sleeves again and biting my lip, considering if I should make an escape for the bathroom.

_C'mon, Swan, new life, new me!_

This is not Forks! No one knows me here.

I take a not so graceful first step aided by Rosalie's push on my back. I stumble my way around people until I reach his stool.

He is sitting facing the bar, both elbows on the countertop. Pixie-girl is nowhere to be found.

My heart is racing, my palms are sweaty, and my lip is starting to hurt from the constant attack of my teeth.

With one hand on the bar for support, I slowly make my way onto the stool next to him.

He tilts his head in my direction, but still looks at the back of the bar.

"Hello," he says, and I might have melted on my seat.

"Hi," I manage to get out.

He turns his head to face me, I can't see his eyes through his shades, but he's now definitely not looking at me, but somewhere over my shoulder. I'm tempted to look back, to see what he's looking at, but I realize he's waiting for me to say something.

Shit...

"Er... Nice fedora!"

The corner of his mouth stretches on a one sided grin and I wish I could really be invisible now. I can feel my ears burning as I blush furiously.

"I mean... nice song."

"Thank you."

"Did you write it?" I blurt out.

"Yeah."

"I'm Bella." I go for it, extending my hand in front of him.

"Edward," he says with a nod, without taking my hand.

As my hand hangs there in front of him, I realize he is still not looking at me.

_What is his problem?_

_Is he some kind of germaphobe?_

I drop my hand, and wipe it on my jeans self-consciously, deciding I should just turn around and leave.

Over his shoulder, I see Pixie-girl approaching us.

"Ready to go?" she asks behind him, and he nods.

"It was nice to meet you, Bella." He turns to Pixie who extends her elbow to him.

Grabbing onto her elbow, he gets down from the stool.

"Step," she murmurs next to him, as they walk down a step and away from me.

_What the-_

~~~o~~~


	2. Piano Lesson

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

I am late for my piano lesson. Well, piano assessment for placement into said lesson. The reason for my tardiness is of course Rosalie. Her new form of torture is hiding the items of clothing that she considers ill-fitting, prudish, or in other words, comfortable. It took me forever to find a t-shirt and hence I'm late.

I'm a bit out of breath when I reach the instructor's office at the end of the hallway. The door is open and I can see him bent over in front of his desk, rummaging the drawer, looking for something, I presume. I can hear him groaning in frustration once I move closer to the door.

I take one more step, lift my hand to knock on the door to catch his attention, but before I do his head snaps up.

Holy mother of unexpected encounters, it's Fedora-guy!

Except he isn't. I mean, he's not wearing a Fedora today.

I smile out of instinct, although I'm pretty sure he can't see me since his eyes are again hidden behind Raybans, and also the little fact that he may be blind. His face is contoured in a frown, almost as if he is in pain, and it takes him a few seconds to compose it.

I get that feeling again in my stomach, like he's staring right at me.

How is that for irony? He sees me even though he can't see.

"Isabella Swan?" He closes the drawer with a sigh. Keeping his fingers always in contact with the surface, he moves around the desk and closer to me with confidence.

His hair is a disgustingly perfect, chaotic mess. He's wearing a cobalt blue button up that is again rolled up to his elbows. He stands a few feet away from me, and I'm rendered speechless by my idiotic brain.

"Hello?" he speaks again.

Oh Jesus, his voice is so deep and sexy, and I'm having a meltdown.

_Think, Swan, think!_

"Uh... yeah?"

I cringe at my inadequate words. Eloquence, clearly not my strong suit in front of this guy.

He takes one step closer. "Bella?" And that little lopsided grin appears on his face. "You're Bella, right? From the bar last Saturday. I'm Edward, remember?" This time he extends his hand to me, not exactly in front of me but a little to the right.

I try picking out pieces out of the incoherence that is my brain at the moment. This guy, Fedora-guy — Edward, who is clearly blind — somehow remembers me from the fraction of a second that we interacted a couple days ago.

Tentatively, I reach for his hand, and when our palms touch, he grips mine tightly and his smile stretches.

"How do you-"

"You have a very unique voice," he says, shaking my hand before dropping it and stepping to one side. "Please, come in." With a hand, he waves me inside. His office is small, but big enough for an upright piano to sit on the left side next to a window.

I step inside and stand there, between the piano, his desk, and him. He smells like soap, and clean, and man, and good...

I knot and intertwine my fingers, amazed at how he moves around the room with such ease.

"You're here for the piano assessment, correct?" He grabs a folder from his desk.

"Yes." Once he hears my answer he moves around me, to the piano, where he sets the opened folder on the music rack.

"Okay..." With a hand on the top of the piano, he turns to me. That friendly smile still on his face again. "Two options. Your choice." He waves to the bench.

I take my seat with a deep breath, before looking up at the sheet music.

_Beethoven... fuck my life._

Okay... "Ode to joy"... I can do this.

My fingers are shaky as I start, and I know I can do better than this, but him standing right next to me is making it extremely difficult for me to focus. He remains still, not looking at me, one hand over the piano, the other loosely over his pocket. His fingers mimic the fingering of the keys.

I get through it eventually. It comes out choppy and out of tempo, but at least I finished it.

"Good," he says. "But that was too easy. Try the other one."

"Für Elise?" _Is he serious?_

I look up at him, and as if he could feel it, his grin stretches wider. "C'mon, just try it."

I take a deep breath and try following the sheet, but it's way out of my range. I can't get the arpeggios with my left hand, and my right hand is not doing so well either. I sigh in frustration and give up altogether when I notice his fingers twitch over his pocket.

"May I?" He gestures to the space next to me on the bench.

Oh God... he wants to sit next to me.

My eyes find his face again, and I shyly nod. A couple uncomfortably silent second later, I remember he can't see me.

"Yes," I say, exhaling through my nose as he moves around the bench.

He sinks beside me, and I clasp my hands between my knees. He begins playing, and I become transfixed on his hands and the beautiful music they create. His fingers are long and a little bony, but incredibly skilled over the keys.

His posture is a bit stiff, back completely straight. His jaw is tightly set too, and every now and then, I can see his jaw muscles twitch.

He finishes with a small release of breath and clasps his hands over his lap. His jaw twitches again.

"Try one more time," he says with a clipped tone.

On my second attempt, he corrects me swiftly, and I am amazed by the fact he knows what I'm doing wrong without having to look.

As time progresses, I can feel he's losing his patience with me. He gets stiffer, if that's even possible. He cringes at some of my notes, and his hands are now in white-knuckle fists.

I stop, tentatively, and turn to look at him. With two fingers, he pinches the bridge of his nose as he suppresses a groan.

"Are you okay?" I whisper.

Before he can answer, a beeping signals the end of our hour, and he shoots up from the bench. He stumbles on the way to his desk and turns the alarm off.

He's unable to keep the frown off of his face anymore. I feel like I should apologize for my lousy playing, but I decide not to. He winces again, and his fingers clench around the edge of the desk.

"I'll email you your class placement," he says through his teeth.

"Okay." I get up from the bench and make my way to the door. Something's wrong. I want to ask him again. He looks like he's in pain, but it can't be because of me, I'm not butchering Beethoven anymore.

"Goodbye," he says in my direction.

"Okay..." I sigh. "Bye."

I don't know if I should close the door or not, so I leave it as I found it: ajar. I turn to check on him one last time. He's back behind his desk, furiously searching for something in his drawer. Groaning, he slams the drawer closed and looks up.

I duck out of view out of instinct.

_Silly, Swan, he can't see you._

"Alice," I hear him say from inside — on his cell-phone, perhaps? — "I need help."

~~~o~~~

bit . ly / 1yPEvBh (remove the spaces)


	3. Electronic mail

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

I remain outside of Edward's office for what feels like an eternity. My back pressed against the wall, my lip trapped between my teeth. Like the coward that I am, I peek back inside. He's now sitting at his desk, his head down between his hands, and I can see that he's panting.

My fingers itch to open the door and offer him some help, and I debate with myself whether to do just that, until I hear someone coming from the other end of the hallway.

I turn and frown when I see Pixie-girl.

And a dog?

The golden lab that's almost dragging her is over half her size. It takes me a second to realize the dog is probably Edward's, once I see the guide-dog harness it's wearing.

Both Pixie and the pup rush through the hallway and stop at his door and, well, me.

She seems to be debating whether to acknowledge me or not. Her eyes flick from his door to me, then back to his door.

She sighs before turning back to me. "Are you one of his students?"

"Yeah... kind of."

"I'm Alice." She extends her hand to me and a friendly smile appears on her face.

"I'm Bella."

"Oh..." She releases the dog from its harness and lets it in Edward's office.

"Is he okay?"

"Don't worry, he will be." With a knowing smile, she steps in his office and closes the door.

_What did just happen?_

Why did my horrendous playing get him so disturbed? I mean, he is a piano instructor, I can't possibly be the worst he's seen... or heard... can I?

I can't say I think about much else as I return to my dorm.

When I open the door to my room, I find Rosalie upside down, on her head and elbows in some kind of exercise pose.

"How did it go?" she asks, with her eyes closed.

"I don't know." I let my bag fall on the floor and flop on the bed.

"Seriously, Bella? You were there. How do you not know how it went?"

I turn to face her, well, her legs, which are still sticking between our beds.

"It started well... I guess. Then it went wrong."

"Well, now that that's cleared up!" She huffs in frustration as she sits on the floor.

"It was _him_, the guy from the bar, Edward."

"Fedora?"

I smile. "I think he's blind."

"You think he's blind?"

"He's blind," I clarify.

"Is this another one of your Invisible Swan theories?" She rolls her eyes at me.

"No. He is actually blind."

"Oh..."

"Right..."

"Am I going to have to get this out of you?" She comes closer and sits on my bed next to me.

"Okay, okay. So I do Ode for Joy first."

"I don't speak music nerdish."

"It's a Beethoven classic!"

All I get from Rosalie is a blank stare.

"Anyway, the first piece goes okay. He asks me to do another one. I mess it up. He seats next to me and performs it flawlessly with his magic fingers."

"Were you drooling?"

"Possibly... Then he asks me to try again, and as I do, he gets... I don't know... angry? Agitated? Then time's up and he asked me to leave."

"Geez, how bad were you?" She laughs throwing a pillow in my face.

I groan into the pillow as she laughs.

"Okay... Okay... it could have been something else."

"Like what?" I peek from the edge of the pillow to see her now pacing between our beds.

"Maybe the song reminded him of something?"

"Why would he choose that song then?"

"Good point. Maybe he was struggling to keep his hands to himself, if you know what I mean?" She turns to me with an eyebrow raised.

"To keep from strangling me?"

She rolls her eyes at me. "Are you going to see him again? When's your next lesson?"

"He's not the professor. He was just conducting the class placement assessment. He said he would email me..."

The words have just left my mouth when she's racing to her desk and grabbing her blueberry ibook. She sets it on the bed, in front of me.

With a sigh, I log on to my AOL account, and there it is. New e-mail from Edward A. Cullen.

_Dear Bella,_

_I can't even begin to apologize for how incredibly rude I was to you during your assessment. Nevertheless, I hope you accept my inadequate words: I am very sorry. I won't even trouble you with pathetic excuses. I am just truly sorry._

_I have placed you on Elementary Piano 405 with Prof. Crowley, but I believe it would beneficial for you to receive private lessons as well. To make up for my behavior, I would like to offer those to you, but I would understand if you rather not. If that were the case, I could recommend other apt, less moody, instructors._

_Hoping you give me a second chance,_

_Edward._

I blink a couple times as I take his words in.

"Oh I see what you did there, Fedora." Rosalie squeezes next to me. "Private lessons, huh?"

He wants to be my private instructor. I am okay with that. Very okay.

"Okay, what are we replying to that?" She tries to take the computer from me but I smack her hand away. "How about," she continues, "immediate forgiveness granted. Also, you can private lesson me all you want."

I laugh at Rosalie as I click the reply button.

"Or: No worries," she proposes. "I didn't notice how rude you were, I was busy drooling over your magic fingers."

_Dear Edward_, I type then delete.

It's just an email, Swan. In writing, you don't have to be such a chicken shit.

_Edward,_

_Please don't worry. Everyone has a bad day. I hope you're ready for more Beethoven butchering. :)_

_Bella._

Ugh. I don't like it. The mouse pointer hovers over the send button, before I delete the whole thing, close the laptop, and with a groan get out of the bed.

"Bella, grow some balls, would ya?"

I ignore Rosalie the best I can, as I gather a change of clothes. A few minutes later, I'm out of the dorm ready for a run.

~~~o~~~


	4. Music Store

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

I still haven't replied to Edward's email. I thought the run yesterday would have helped clear my head, but I didn't. As it turns out, I can't think clear when it comes to Edward.

I will take his classes, and his apology, I've decided that much. I just wish I could tell him in person. Every word I write seems just wrong.

I've also decided to practice my Beethoven some more, anything I can do to make it easier for him.

So I'm at the record store at the mall, searching for a Beethoven Sonatas course.

Once I pick a C.D., I recognize him immediately, towards the back of the store. Even though his back is to me, the golden lab sitting at his feet, gives him away.

He's by the music display wall, earphones on.

I round the Classical aisle to his left and come closer.

His head is bobbing slightly, his Raybans on. He's holding his fedora in one hand, while the other is over his jean's pocket, his fingers tapping to the tune.

His classic look is completed with the suspenders he is wearing.

I move even closer, possessed by some uncharacteristic braveness and determination to speak to him. Of course, as soon as I am right next to him, both foreign sentiments disappear.

Before I can make my escape, his head stops bobbing, his face slightly turns in my direction, and with one finger, he presses the stop button.

_Shit..._

I get that feeling in my stomach again, like his eyes are on me, and I can feel my face burn. I open my mouth to say something but no sounds come out.

"Bella?" He takes his earphones off.

"How do you do that?!"

He turns to me with a smile, running a hand through his hair before putting his fedora on.

"How do I do what?" he replies teasingly.

"How do you know it's me?"

"I took an educated guess." He shrugs playfully.

His smile is so friendly, I feel myself slowly relaxing. If only my knees would stop shaking.

"Oh..." I rake my brain for appropriate words to say to him. At this point, he probably thinks there's something wrong with me or my brain. As the words don't come, I hang my head in my hands. Could I be any more socially crippled?

"Did you get my e-mail?" He asks unfazed. My meltdown seemingly unnoticed.

"Yes."

"I'm really sorry. I'm never cross like that. It was just... I... I wasn't feeling well. I'm sorry." There's something about Edward that inspires some kind of calm on me. Maybe it's the fact that he can't see my awkwardness. Maybe it's the fact that to him I truly am Invisible Swan.

"You don't have to explain, really. It's okay." My brain finally finds some words. "I'm sorry I didn't reply sooner. I think those private lessons sound great." I smile at him, involuntarily.

_There, that wasn't that hard, now was it, Swan?_

"Really?" He smiles back.

"Yeah. In fact, in my hands lies Beethoven's Sonatas Piano course."

"By whom?"

"Alfred something?" I turn the disc around to check.

"Pffft. Those are no good. Plus, you won't need them after my lessons."

"Well, that saves me sixty bucks."

"Overpriced too." He shakes his head.

"So when do we start?"

_Bold, Swan... I like it._

"Are you busy right now?" He replies in a heartbeat.

"No. Not really."

"Okay. Let's go then." At his words, the pup gets up and it's right beside him. "This is Sam, by the way."

I crouch and pet Sam's head.

"He won't pay much attention to you. Not when he's harnessed."

In spite of Edward's words, and with his tail wagging furiously, the dog slams into me and licks my cheek.

I laugh as a fall on my ass.

"Sam!" Edward pulls on the pup's harness to correct him. "I'm so sorry." He extends his hand in my direction and when I grab it, he pulls me up.

"No worries." I stare at our hands; mine looks so tiny, with his long fingers wrapped over it. Although it's minimum, in the brief second our hands are connected, his fingers purposely feel my hand. As if he was measuring it. Memorizing it.

He nods as he lets my hand go, and gestures to the front of the store.

He keeps a tighter grip on Sam as we make our way through the store. I stare as I follow, mesmerized, at how the dog helps Edward get around. At the door he halts, holding it open, and gesturing me to go out first.

I smile again, even though he can't see it and whisper "Thank you."

He smiles back at me as we make our way outside. The walk to the bus goes without problems, but it's when we stand at the bus stop that I feel myself getting overwhelmed by the man in front of me. I look around us, people coming and going, cars, bikes, taxis flying by... How does Edward get around? How does he know which bus to catch? How did he get here? Under his fedora and behind his raybans, his face is one of utter calm. His smile friendly and in place. He is truly an amazing human being.

The bus that stops next to us wakes me from my Edward-in-suspenders-trance, and as the doors open, Sam pulls Edward forward.

"Hey, Edward!" the bus driver calls from inside.

"Hello, Mike," Edward replies, then turns to me. "Ladies first?"

~~~o~~~


	5. Piano Lesson - Take 2

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. Norah Jones owns Come Away With Me. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

Edward and I talk all the way, on the bus and through campus, until we get to his office. He asks me about school, and I ask him about Sam. At first, walking next to Edward makes me a bit nervous, since I don't know whether I should help him or not. But after a while, I realize how seemingly easy they get around. Sam stops at any change in elevation, curb or step, and somehow Edward knows what it means. He's able to keep up with me — and our conversation — hardly ever missing a step or stumbling.

To be honest, I sometimes struggle more when I'm rushing to class in the morning.

The amount of concentration that it must be taking him to just walk from one place to another!

Once we arrive in his office, we get right to business. We go over 'Für Elise' again and he shows me a slower, easier version. The whole while he sits next to me.

I don't notice the time until my wrists start hurting.

I roll them a bit, wincing, and I might have made some kind of noise, because he's quick to ask, "Are you okay?"

"My hands... They're a bit sore," I admit.

"Ah... were they tense while you were playing?"

"A little bit." How could they not? With him sitting next to me.

"I'm sorry, I should have gone over that. I was... distracted." He turns to face in my direction, on purpose, it seems, so I can see his smile.

"It's okay."

"May I?" He stretches his hand to me, palm up. I look up at him briefly, but I can't read him under his Raybans.

I put my hand in his, and he scoots closer before he starts massaging my hand.

_Oh dear god, Edward is massaging my hand. _

"You need to keep your arms and your wrists relaxed while you play. If they are tense, then they'll hurt afterward, and you could risk getting injured."

"Right. I knew that. Sorry..." I peek at him, biting my lip. "I was distracted too."

He smiles even broader, setting my hand over his leg and asking for the other one. I comply immediately.

"What kind of music do you like, Bella?" His tone is soft, friendly, inviting — it make me feel at ease.

"You mean besides Beethoven?"

He laughs wholeheartedly as he continues to massage my hands.

_Look at you, Swan... making jokes and shit._

"Um... I don't know... I like a lot of different stuff."

"What about something current? Something you could play?"

"On the piano? Ha... Nothing."

"How about singing?" He goes from one hand to the other again.

"I don't sing in public."

"Well, we're not in public. It's just you and me."

"I don't know…"

"What about other instruments?" He rests my hand, still in his, over his thigh. Not actively massaging them anymore, but not letting go either.

"Well, I'm a cellist by training…"

"You play the cello," he states, surprised, but smiling.

"Not spectacularly though."

"I highly doubt that."

"I've been trying to diversify to something more… portable?"

"I bet," he says, and a little laugh escapes his lips.

"What?"

"Nothing. Sorry. Just imagining you carrying a cello which is probably twice your size."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Well… by the size of your hands, and um, where your voice comes from when you're standing next to me… I'd say you're 5'2''?" He traces with his fingers each of mine, sending tingles up my arms and through my whole body.

_Wow…_

"I'm almost 5'3'', thank you very much."

"Ah… so close!" He smiles, letting go of my hands.

"Umm..." I bring my hands to myself. I can only blame the calm he seems to inflict on me for the next words that escape my lips without my permission. "I did just come up with an easy guitar cover for Come Away With Me by Norah Jones. Have you heard that?"

_Did I just offer to play him something on the guitar?!_

He shakes his head with a small grin, before getting up. I turn my wrists around; they feel so much better. He goes behind his desk and comes back with a guitar in his hands.

He stops next to the chair by his desk. "Are your hands feeling better? Can you show me?"

Even if my hands were still hurting, how could I say no?

"Okay." I walk to the chair and grab the guitar from him. He switches places with me at the piano bench.

With a deep breath, I try a couple strums on his guitar. It's perfectly tuned.

He's facing me, his elbows on his knees, and his chin resting over his clasped hands. A peaceful expression on his face.

Looking down at the chords, I start to play.

It took me a couple of weeks to come up with this cover, but at the end, I am very happy with it. I love the song too, so I immerse myself in it as I sing it for Edward.

"_Come away with me in the night_

_Come away with me_

_And I will write you a song_

_Come away with me on a bus…"_

At this, I peak at Edward – He is smiling broadly at me – our earlier bus adventure probably replaying in his head.

In an attempt to not mess up the song, I don't look at him anymore. I am so into the song, that only towards the end is when I realize Edward had started playing with me, accompanying the song with the piano.

Without having the chords.

Without knowing the music.

Just by ear.

_He is amazing._

I sigh, setting the guitar down.

"That was-"

"That was-" we both start at the same time.

I push my hair behind my ears as he turns around and faces me. "Bella, you have a gift. Your voice is truly exceptional. Your tone is beautiful and it transmits so much emotion."

"Thank you." I feel myself blush, but I don't look down. I stare right up at him relishing in the fact that he, of all people, can see me, hear me, get me.

"That's a beautiful song too…" He exhales in contentment.

We stay quiet for a few seconds that are everything but awkward, before he speaks again.

"You should really try the open mic once."

I scoff through my nose. Just thinking about being on that stage turns my stomach. All those eyes on me as I projectile vomit on everyone. I shudder.

I look at the clock for a way out and notice it's getting late. "I should probably go."

He frowns slightly before getting up. I gather my things quickly and he remains still.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you be there Friday?"

I peek at him briefly as his hands go into his pockets and I sigh.

"I will be there," he continues. "It'd be nice if you were there too."

I'm not ready. I'm not ready for this. Performing in public. I can't. I just can't.

"Not to sing..." he adds quickly. "I mean, not if you don't want to. But just to be there... with me?"

I can see his hands twitching in his pockets. Is he asking me out?

"Okay. I will be there."

A breathtaking smile later, I am out the door; uncertain as to whether I just agreed to a date with Edward Cullen.

~~~o~~~


	6. Open Mic Fail

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

Rosalie and I arrive to the bar a little earlier than last Friday. I find Edward by himself at the bar.

He's facing the back of the bar, a glass of something in front of him. The sleeves of his off-white button up are rolled up to his elbows, a trademark of his I find, as well as his fedora and Raybans in place.

He is wearing suspenders again...

Once I round the bar, I see that Sam is here too, eating out of a bowl on the floor and being pet by the bartender.

I walk up to Edward, and once my hand touches the stool next to him, his head turns in my direction. "Bella?"

I don't think I'll ever stop being surprised at his way of recognizing me.

"Hi," I say simply, making no effort in hiding my smile and taking my seat next to him.

"You made it," he says excitedly, and I could just hug him right now. I want to.

"I did."

"Good..." The smile that stretches on his face leaves me in a daze. I get so distracted by the stubble covering most of his jaw that I don't see the guy approaching us until he is right next to us.

"Edward, you're next," the guy says.

"Thanks." Edward turns back to the bar and downs his glass before getting off of the stool.

I remember last time I saw him here; the girl who was with him was helping him get around the bar.

"Do you need help?"

"Yeah. My sister is not here tonight," he explains.

I smile too, feeling a little silly for ever thinking they were somehow involved. It makes sense, though. It's his sister who takes him to an open mic bar to help him out — who brings him his dog to his office. His sister takes care of him. I very much like his sister already.

"I was hoping you'd ask," he says, remaining still next to me.

My hand hovers over his arm, uncertain as to how to help him exactly.

"If you just stay close to me, I can walk fine next to you," he clarifies.

"Okay."

I narrate some differences in elevation — as I saw his sister do last Friday — and we make it to the side of the stage, where a girl is still up there, performing on the piano. The same guy approaches us and hands a guitar to Edward.

Guitar in hand, Edward turns to face me. "Here's a crazy idea..." That earth-shattering grin appears again on his face. "Come on stage with me."

I freeze.

I can't.

I'm not ready.

I look at the girl on the piano and how confident and relaxed she seems. I won't ever be able to do that.

"Me on the piano. You on the guitar," Edward continues, bringing the guitar closer to me. "We do your cover of Come Away With Me. I've memorized it already. What do you think?"

The girl's performance ends on applause and whistles.

I turn back to Edward, who still holds the guitar in front of me expectantly.

As the girl makes her way out of the stage, the guy comes to us again. "Guys, you're up."

I see the girl walking down the steps and my attention shifts. How is Edward going to make it to the piano without any help?

I'm trapped.

"What do you say, Bella?" His inviting words hang in the air as I bite my lip.

Maybe I can do this. He'll be there with me. I was able to sing this for him the other day. I can pretend it's just him and me.

I grab the guitar on an impulse. "Okay."

"Excellent."

He walks next to me up the stairs and to the piano where he takes a seat on the bench.

There's another chair, next to the piano, the microphone right in front of it.

I put the guitar strap on, and sit, taking a deep breath before looking up.

I see Rosalie first, her face lit up in excitement. The guy next to her is looking at me too.

I realize then, so is everybody. There are about sixty people in this place — That's 120 eyes on me.

My stomach turns, my vision gets blurry. I can feel my lunch rushing up, and I swallow loudly.

My ears ring with the accelerated beating of my heart, and I can't breathe.

So I get rid of the guitar and I run.

Luckily, I make it to the trash bins outside of the bar before I throw up.

"Bella!"

I turn to Rosalie, wiping my mouth, tears prickling out of my eyes.

"I can't do this," I cry.

"It's okay, sweetie." She puts an arm around me, pressing my head on her shoulder and caressing my hair.

"I'm going back to the dorm."

"Okay, let's go," she says without hesitation.

"You can stay. It's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Please."

"Okay." She kisses the side of my face. "Call me if you need anything." I nod at her before she retreats.

I think about explaining to Edward, but the idea of going back inside turns my stomach upside down, so I start running again, and this time I don't stop until I reach my dorm.

It's still relatively early on a Friday night, so there's virtually no one on my floor.

I take a long, minimally soothing shower, and try to relax.

My heart still pounds inside of my chest as I dry my hair.

I look at myself in the mirror and the tears that still wet my lashes.

This is ridiculous.

I return to my room and try some breathing exercises that Dr. Zafrina showed me, but nothing works. I decide to catch up on one of the myriad of shows Rosalie has tried to get me into, but can't even get past her tape of last week's Dawson's Creek.

I make some chamomile tea and even try playing snake on my Nokia.

My palms are still sweaty. Nothing works.

When I get a text from Rosalie, I don't read it. I just want to be left alone and stare at the ceiling for the next two hours or however long it takes for my attack to pass.

The knock on the door is what wakes me with a jolt.

I look around, still a bit groggy, and realize Rosalie is not back yet.

I drag my feet to the door, pulling my hair in a loose ponytail

"Who is it?" I bark, ready to tell whoever's behind this door to go away.

"Bella?"

HO-LY-SHIT.

It can't be.

"It's Edward."

~~~o~~~


	7. Dorm Visit

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

I press my back to the door and, for a second, I subconsciously start fixing my hair and rubbing my hands on my eyes.

Edward is outside my door.

_How?_

With a deep breath, I open the door and there he is. His eyebrows scrunched in a frown over his glasses. He is running a hand through his hair — which seems a bit damp with sweat — before he puts the fedora back on.

I can see that he's panting.

Did he run here?

What time is it?

_How_ did he get here?

Sam rubs his nose on my leg and I exhale, realizing I was holding my breath.

At this, Edward reacts; one hand on his chest while the other holds the frame of the door. "You're here..." He breathes out in relief. "Are you okay?"

He looks so unsettled I almost want to ask if _he_ is okay.

"I'm fine," it's what I say.

"You left... I... I didn't know how to... I was so worried." He has no breath to finish the sentence. That hand is still at his chest, and I'm the one who starts getting worried.

"Hey..." I reach for his hand at the door. "I'm okay."

"I'm so sorry I pushed you to do it. You're not ready. I get that now. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." I wrap my hand over his and pull it from the door. "Want to come in?"

As soon as I say this, Sam goes right in, pushing through my legs, making me laugh.

"He's uncontrollable when it comes to you," Edward says, shaking his head.

I smile. "It's all right," I say as I pull him inside and close the door.

I walk Edward to my bed where he sits. Even though he has calmed down considerably, he still seems a bit agitated.

"Would you like some water or something?"

"Water would be good." He takes his fedora off and sets it on my bed, running his hand on his hair afterward.

I get a bottle from our mini fridge and hand it to him. He gulps on it as soon as he opens it.

"Would Sam be thirsty too?"

"Probably..."

I take another bottle out and pour it in a bowl, which I set on the floor for Sam. He seems just as desperate for his water as Edward.

"Did you guys run here or what?"

Edward smiles, palming his forehead. "Maybe a little."

My brain starts bombarding me with questions — one in particular taking most of my attention right now.

I sit on the bed, in front of him. "How did you know where I was?"

"I didn't."

"Did you follow me here?"

"Bella, how could I have followed you here?"

"I don't know... Maybe Sam sniffed me out?"

"He's not that good," he says through a chuckle. "You're funny."

I remember Rosalie's text then. I reach for my cell quickly.

"**I think Fedora is 'looking' for you. Do you want me to say something to him?"**

"Did Rosalie bring you here?" I ask, putting the phone down again.

"Who is Rosalie?" His eyebrows scrunch in the middle in apparent confusion, but I can't tell if he's being serious or not.

"Edward..." I groan in exasperation.

"Okay..." He takes a deep breath. "I didn't know you were gone. I mean, I thought you had just left the stage, not the bar. I asked the bartender to look for you but he said you stormed out."

"Does _he_ know where I live?"

"No... um... no one told me where you live. Since you're a freshman, I figured you must be at one of the women's dorms. I knew you walked to the bar, so I started with the closest one and worked my way up from there. Luckily, this is only the third dorm I checked. Your room was a little harder to find. Had to ask around, of course. I'm surprised they haven't called the police on me yet."

"Wow..."

"Most people think I'm harmless. Blindness perk, I guess."

"How… I…"

"I have the campus memorized, Bella. I have to. I need to always know where I'm going. And Sam helps me with unexpected obstacles. Of course... I had never been inside this building... um... so _that_ took me a bit longer."

"I can't even imagine how hard that must be..." The words escape my mouth as they go through my brain. Images of Edward stumbling throw the hallway, reading signs with his fingers flash before my eyes.

"Most days it's okay." He shrugs. "Sometimes it's harder than others. Tonight, for instance. Not being able to get to you. It was... very difficult."

"I can't believe you found me like that." I am surprised he even found someone who knew who I was.

"It's a bit creepy, isn't it? I'm sorry. I just wanted to check on you."

I peek up at him, he seems embarrassed which melts my heart. "It's okay."

"So, are you okay?"

"I am," I say, exhaling. "I panicked. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me, Bella. I shouldn't have forced you to do it. I am truly sorry."

"I want to be able to do it. That's the whole reason I'm here. I love music, I want to be able to share it with others."

"You did just fine, sharing it with me the other day."

"I know. That took me by surprise as well. I guess I just need to work on it."

"Can I help?" The eager smirk that appears on his face leaves me blushing and again glad he can't see how much of a wreck he leaves me in. "I think I could help. If you'd let me. We can include it on the free lessons."

"Speaking of free lessons, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that arrangement. I'd like to start paying for them. It's not fair."

"Nonsense." He scoffs, grabbing his hat and getting up from the bed. "Don't worry about that." He puts his hat on. "I should probably go and let you go back to sleep." At this, Sam's head snaps up, and in the next second, he's by Edward's feet. Edward crouches down and grabs the leash to the harness.

"Hey, you don't have to go." I'm off from the bed.

He smiles in my direction while running his fingers on Sam's neck. "Actually I do. We have an early day tomorrow." Sam's tail is still wagging as Edward gets up. "Um..." He stalls, his fingers twitching over his pockets.

Sam turns his head to Edward, and very non-subtly, nudges him on the knee.

"Um... We're actually going hiking... Clearwater trail. Maybe you want to join us? If you like hiking, that is."

"You... you're going hiking?"

"Yes, Bella. I'm not _completely_ disabled."

"Oh my god, I am so sorry. That's not what I meant."

He chuckles. "I know. No worries. You'd be surprised at how many things I can do just fine without my sight." His smile changes, to a devious one.

_Is he... is he flirting with me?_

"I'd love to," I say right away.

"Find out?" He raises an eyebrow at me.

"No...um I meant go hiking... with you guys."

"Right," he says. "Great! I'll meet you at the trail's entrance. 9 am?"

"Sure. Okay."

The door flings wide open then, revealing a visually inebriated and wobbly Rosalie who almost bumps into Edward.

"Oh! Bella! You should have hung something on the door, girl!"

I roll my eyes at her as she raunchily licks her lips, waggling her eyebrows, gesturing at Edward. I am so glad he can't see her.

"Rosalie, this is Edward. Edward, my roommate, Rosalie."

"Pleasure to meet you, Rosalie. I was just heading out." He tightens his grip on Sam's leash, prompting him ready. "Goodnight, Bella." He nods in my general direction. "Rosalie..." And then he's gone.

I fall flat on my bed with a huff.

"Yo, shake that thing miss kana kana…" Rosalie starts singing. "Shake that thing, yo, Bella-Bella." She grabs my feet and starts shaking my legs.

"Shut up!" I manage between giggles.

"Yo sexy ladies wan' par' with us, sit in a car with us, go to war with us…" She dances away to her closet.

"Go to war with us?" I ask from my bed, covering my face with my pillow as she starts undressing.

"Let's get it on 'til the early morn', girl it's all good just turn me on," I can hear her sing until she comes closer and lands on my bed.

"Are you sure you don't want to switch to a music major? Those were some beautiful lyrics."

"Don't deflect, Bella. Are you okay?" She sits at the edge of my bed, next to me.

"Better now, yes."

"So Fedora, huh?"

"I think he asked me out." I prop myself on my elbows as she leaves my bed.

"You think? Like on a date?"

"A hiking date."

"Is he a hiking freak too?"

"I guess..."

"Wait, how can he go hiking?" She is sitting on her bed, squirting some cream on a cotton ball and proceeding to wipe the make up off her face.

"I don't know... With the guide dog?"

"That's amazing."

"He's pretty amazing."

"Oh, Bella, you are so screwed!"

"Ugh... I know!" I cover my face with the pillow, laying flat again.

"Are you sure though?"

"About what?" I peek from under the pillow.

"You know... about going for it... with him." She's by my bed again.

"I really like him."

"But Bella, he's blind."

"I know that. So what?"

"Wouldn't that make things... difficult?"

"I don't know. I'm sure his life is more difficult, but look how well he deals with it."

"Just be careful, okay?" She runs a hand on my shoulder and then heads over to her bed. "Before you sign up for more than you asked for."

I stare at the ceiling for a while, thinking about Edward. How he is able to get around. How Sam helps him. I can't even begin to imagine how difficult every single mundane thing must be for him. Yet, he showed up here — not knowing where I live — to check on me. The more I think, the more I'm amazed at the person who Edward Cullen is.

~~~o~~~


	8. Hiking Date

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

Edward is there, at the entrance of Clearwater Park, by the bench, like we agreed to. He's standing perfectly still, Sam sitting in a straight pose too right next to him. They are in so many ways so alike it's mind blowing — and kind of funny — and also weird. Edward is wearing khaki shorts and a navy blue t-shirt. No hat today, but his Raybans are in place.

I walk up to them and — in a moment of braveness — stand right in front of Edward. Sam does a good job ignoring me, but as soon as I breathe, Edward tilts his head down in my direction. A couple of seconds later, a grin the size of Texas appears on his face, and I am glad he's unable to see the matching, goofy grin on mine.

I stay quiet, testing him, and waiting for my stomach to stop fluttering.

He composes his face, and I see one eyebrow rise behind his glasses. "Hello?"

I hold my breath, trying to contain my giggles.

"Can I help you, Miss?"

I cover my mouth with my hand.

"Bella, I may be blind, but you can't fool me."

"Darn it, you're good."

"Darn it?" He chuckles.

"All right now... you guys ready?"

The hike up with Edward and Sam is on a trail I have done a few times already. It's not a very long trail but it has a very rewarding view at the top. Edward and Sam keep a good pace, and at times, it's me who's actually struggling to keep up with them.

Edward has surely done this trail before.

He couldn't possibly memorize all of these places — all of these turns, elevations, and changes in terrain…

He doesn't say much on the way up, and I can imagine most of his concentration is devoted to taking the right steps.

When we make it to the top, I fill my lungs with air and exhale loudly in contentment. "I love this place."

"Me too," Edward says, a bit out of breath. He gets a water bottle from his backpack and a dish. He pours some water for Sam before he chugs on the bottle himself.

We sit on a rock side by side. In silence. I admire the view in front of me. Edward seems pleased too as he takes in his surroundings with his other senses.

"Bella," he breaks the silence. "Can you describe it for me?"

"Um... sure… well, it's a bit cloudy, but you can see down the cliff and the lake. It's absolutely beautiful. There are pine trees around us, and there's a squirrel next to the tree on your left."

"Yeah, I can hear it."

"Really? You can?"

He chuckles. "Sam must be having a tough time ignoring that."

I smile at the pup, who lays still next to Edward's feet.

"I can smell the pine trees too," he adds.

"That's amazing."

"You probably could too. If you focused on that."

"Yeah... maybe."

"Keep going." His fingers move over the rock surface, closer to my hand, but not quite enough to make contact yet. I consider moving my hand closer, so he'll bump it, but I don't.

"Um... well, some of the trees are starting to change color, but they're not there yet." I look around, overwhelmed by what it must be to not be able to see anything, and what a poor job at describing I am doing. "I'm sorry, I am not very eloquent... or descriptive."

"You are doing great. Thank you. I still have some memories of this place from when I used to come here with my dad. How you described it is exactly how I remember it."

My heart aches for him. I unashamedly move my hand closer to his, until our fingers touch. A few seconds later his pinky starts reaching up, and then he has my hand in his.

"So you haven't been blind forever?" I ask.

"No, I was seventeen when I fully lost my sight."

Before I can even digest what I just heard, the next words come stumbling out: "Did you have an accident?"

"Not exactly." He lets go of my hand and gets up suddenly with a huff, wiping his hands on his shorts. "Maybe we should get going."

_Shit… way to go, Bella._

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry... we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

He faces down, rubbing one hand on his neck. He clearly does not like to talk about this, and I am the idiot asking.

"I'm sorry," he says, dropping next to me again and taking a deep breath. "It's okay… I-"

"No. I'm sorry. I don't need to know, really. We don't need to talk about that."

"I promise I will tell you. Just not now, okay? I don't want to spoil this moment… or this place."

"That's perfectly fine."

He seems deep in thought for a while until he starts relaxing. "How did you get into music?" he asks.

"Trying to stay out of gym," I joke, and he laughs. The more time I spend with Edward the more comfortable I am with myself. "I'm not the most coordinated person. How about you?"

"My mother. She's a music enthusiast, and she always said I had a good ear. I'm glad she got me into it… To be honest, I don't know what I would do without music now."

"She's right, of course. You do have a good ear. I mean, it's amazing how much information you can get from your hearing… like how you recognize me by my voice only."

"It's not just your voice."

"It's not?"

"No, my other senses work pretty well too." He smiles mischievously at me, and my heart races.

"Are you saying I stink?"

His laugh is so loud and hearty it perks Sam up. I can't help but giggle too.

"On the contrary, Bella; your scent, it's exquisite." He turns his face to me, and his hand moves a little closer to mine until his fingers meet mine. In a swift move his hand is over mine and our fingers intertwine. He smiles proudly, right at me, as if he could see me. I squeeze his fingers back in agreement, until he turns to face the view in front of us.

We stay like this — holding hands — sitting on a rock, completely and utterly happy.

~~~o~~~


	9. The Scarf

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

I'm rushing through campus — very close to being late for my lesson with Edward — when outside of his office building, when his sister who has Sam on a leash stops me. "Bella, right?"

"Yes, hi." I extend my hand to her, and she shakes it with a smile.

"I wanted to formally introduce myself. I'm Edward's sister, Alice Cullen."

"It's really nice to meet you, Alice," I smile a little nervously, suddenly worried of what she thinks about me.

She _can_ see me.

I pull on the hem of my T-shirt, subconsciously. "I'm almost late for my lesson-"

"I'll be quick," she states, unapologetically. "My brother seems very taken with you, and I can see why… but Bella, you must know, he doesn't live an easy life. If he is able to get around and manage things as he does it's because he is incredibly determined, smart and talented. But he's stubborn, Bella. And sometimes he doesn't really acknowledge his limitations. I'm just… I..." Her hand meets her forehead, and she seems worried that she's said too much.

"You're worried about him."

"Always." She sighs.

"I can imagine. I can't wrap my head around how he is able to do the things he does. But trust me, I would never push him to-"

"It's not you I'm worried about."

"Oh…"

"It's him," she clarifies. "He pushes himself too hard. I…"

Her worry is contagious, and I'm suddenly concerned for him as well. "Did something happen? Is he okay? We went hiking and he seemed fine-"

"You went hiking? Of course you did. I… Forget I said anything, okay?" she adds with a defeated huff.

I can't shake off the feeling that there might be something else going on, but I don't think she will tell me anything more, so I don't dig any deeper. "You're a good sister, Alice," I say, and she smiles. "Edward is lucky to have you."

"Just… can you make sure he has your cell phone number? In case he has to look for you again… so he doesn't have to be going into buildings he's never been in before."

"Oh…" So this is about that… "We exchanged contacts last weekend." He also explained to me how his little Nokia phone is so much cooler than mine since it has software installed with speech-output access to all the information on the screen.

"Okay." She waves me off dismissively. "Okay, now go. I don't want to be the one who takes away his time with you."

I am aware that Edward is only able to do everything he does because he is constantly working at his hardest, to keep up with everyone and everything without his sight. However, besides the day of my piano assessment, he has always seemed fine and at ease with me. He makes me feel at ease too and like I can be anything I want in front of him.

So with a sigh, I push all the warnings to the back of my head, and head into the building.

"So my cello instructor thinks I should join his band," I say, dropping my bag, as I come into Edward's office.

"On your first year." He is sitting behind his desk, his head snaps up as soon as I come in.

"On my first year!"

"That's amazing, Bella. Congratulations!" His smile is broad and genuine, and I could almost kiss him — I want to. "I knew you were nothing short of spectacular on the cello as well."

"Thanks… but it's not going to happen."

"Why not?" He makes his way around the desk, his fingers tracing the wood surface, as I sit on the piano bench.

"You know why. I can't perform in front of people." I sigh.

"You will though."

"I'm not so sure about that."

He brings a chair in front of his desk, taking a seat closer to me. "When was the last time, before the bar incident, that you tried performing?"

"Singing? Never."

"How about something else? A play in school, maybe?"

"Oh, not since middle school."

"How come?"

"My mom had this brilliant idea of signing me up for theater to, you know, get me out my shell. First play of the year is The Little Mermaid, and I land the very coveted role of…" I pause; I can't believe I'm telling this to Edward. "A pair of glasses."

"A pair of glasses?"

"Yes. A pair of glasses. You know from Ariel's collection of human's stuff?"

"Oh… _those_ famous glasses." He smirks.

"Right. So she makes me this costume which consists of skin color tights and a matching leotard with gigantic, black cardboard glasses prompted from my hips. Lovely, right?"

I can see the effort it's taking him to not laugh.

"So my big scene comes when King Triton destroys all of her stuff with his magic trident. I just had to fall down on cue. I do as I was told, except I was so nervous I started laughing uncontrollably, until I…" I shudder at the memory.

"What?"

"I peed."

"Oh, dear..." he chuckles.

"It wasn't funny! Skin color tights don't really camouflage pee stains, you know?"

"So then what?" He tries to remain in control, but a smile is twitching on his lips.

"So then nothing. That was the end of my illustrious acting career." I smile in relief. I haven't really told this story to anyone before, but it's surprisingly not as difficult and maybe even a little funny to tell it to Edward.

"Ok, I have an idea," he says excitedly getting up from the chair. "You said what freaks you out about singing in public was people looking at you, right?"

"Yeah..."

"And that time you sang in front of me, that was probably because — in spite of as much as I would love to — I _can't _look at you."

I try to ignore the fact that he just said he would love to look at me. I don't know if he would feel the same way after he did. "I guess…"

"Okay... so, sit here." He waves a hand to the chair he was sitting on a few seconds ago.

"Edward, what are we-"

"Just let me try one thing."

I walk to the chair and sit down with a sigh.

"So, imagine you're on stage-"

"I can't..."

"Just try it, come on."

I take a deep breath.

"You're on stage and everybody is looking at you."

My hands tense over my legs, and as if he could feel it, his hand is on my shoulder. "What if..." he pauses, his fingers tracing the crook of my neck and stopping behind my ear. "What if you couldn't see them?"

His other hand is on the other side of my face, holding a scarf. "It's my sister's," he says. "May I?"

I only manage to mumble unintelligently; still overwhelmed by the touch of his fingers on my neck, and not quite sure I know what he's going to do with that scarf.

I know he needs to keep touch with things so he knows where they are, and I know he's just trying to figure out where I am — where my head is — but still, his fingers... on my neck... over my face… feel incredible.

He moves my hair back, behind my shoulders and my ears, and I close my eyes as he wraps the scarf around them and ties it on the back of my head.

"Try now," he says, placing what I assume is the guitar on my leg. I grab the instrument awkwardly, trying to go by feeling.

The first note is off. "Ugh..."

His hand is around mine next, on the neck of the guitar, and he corrects its placement in what feels like two frets up. I try again, but it still doesn't sound right.

"How do you do this?!"

I hear him chuckle, and then I hear as he pushes a chair next to me. "Bella..." I can feel him next to me now. His breath on my neck, whispering in my ear. I'm glad he can't see the goose bumps all over me.

"Music is for the ears, not the eyes. Focus on the feeling of the strings under your fingers, the sound of the right tension on the chord. You've done this song a million times before. You don't need your sight for this."

I take a deep breath, because really all I want are his hands on me again.

"Try again," he says a bit louder, and it seems like he's moved away from me. I'm relieved for the space. I don't think I'd get through the song with him on me like that.

I test my fingers out a couple times, making sure they're in the correct positions, and I begin.

Once I get into the song, it turns out not to be so difficult. It certainly requires my full concentration, but my hands move almost on instinct.

When I'm done, I hear Edward clap and I smile, taking the scarf off and turning to face him.

"That was beautiful, Bella." He's sitting on the chair, leaning back. His legs stretched and his ankles crossed in front of him. His hands are clasped behind his neck. And there's that smile on his face... My whole body is melting.

I set the guitar down carefully as he sits up on the chair, his elbows on his knees, leaning closer to me, and still smiling that smile. My body reacts as if he was staring intently at me, and in a moment of bravery, I scoot closer.

As if he can feel it, he slowly loses his smile, and his face inches closer in my direction.

The bravery leaves me as fast as it got to me and, before my face can get any closer to his, I get up in a haste, my hand finding support on the piano making a horrible noise of mismatched keys.

Edward jolts on the chair with the noise.

"I… I should probably get going."

"Bella, wait."

"Thank you for today, really. I think it has ironically opened my eyes."

"Bella-" His hand reaches out but it doesn't quite make it to me, so he drops it with a sigh and gets up. "I'm sorry if this was too much," he says. He sounds defeated, and my heart breaks.

I take a deep breath and try to relax. Maybe he didn't notice I was about to kiss him… "It wasn't."

"Then why are you leaving?" He takes a step closer, his hand extended in front of him protectively.

"Our hour is almost up," I lie. "And I have a lot to study…"

"Okay," he gives up, running a hand through his hair, shredding my last bit of resolve.

I don't think I can stay in this room any longer, but I don't want to make him feel bad about it, so I offer the only thing I think would make him happy right now. "I want to try the open mic again this Friday."

"What?! Really?" The faintest of smiles appears on his features, and I smile back.

"Yes. Will I see you there?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he says wholeheartedly.

With my heart still beating fast inside my chest, I utter a quick goodbye and storm out of the room, rushing outside. I fly past Alice and Sam, and I don't stop until I reach my dorm.

What did just happen?!

I not only almost kissed him, but I also signed up for public humiliation once again.

_What is he doing to me?_

~~~o~~~


	10. Open Mic Fail - Take 2

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

I don't look up. I focus down, on the guitar, on the notes, just like we practiced. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

I try to block the fact that I am sitting on a chair in the middle of the stage, guitar in clammy hands.

_No one's here._

_No one can see me._

My fingers shake as I position them over the frets, but I think about Edward — who is next to me, by the piano — and his faith on me, so I keep my eyes closed.

I start the intro and relax further into the song as Edward joins me.

I keep my eyes closed the whole time, until the end, when Edward misses a beat.

Edward never misses a beat. Not any of the times we've played together.

I peek at him, during the last verse of the song, and he's gotten back on track, but I can see how tense he is. His jaw is set. His eyebrows are in a deep frown. It briefly reminds me of the time I went to his office for my first piano assessment, and I start to wonder whether he's okay.

I cut the song short, instead of doing the ending twice, and he follows along. Once done, I am standing next to him on the bench. His hands are in fists over his thighs, and he is breathing rapidly.

"Hey..." I place my hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

"Bella..." He exhales through his nose and tries to compose his face. "You were magnificent."

It's not until he says it that I realize people are cheering, and my whole body fills with excitement.

Edward stands next to me, and I hold on to his arm, not just to help him off of the stage, but needing some help myself to stay upright.

_I did it!_

_I got through it!_

_My first live performance ever, and my lunch is still in my stomach!_

Once we are down the steps and in the hallway to the restrooms and back office, my arms go around his neck and my body is flush against him. "Thank you!" I whisper in his ear, completely overwhelmed by what just happened.

I hug myself to him, but I don't realize he's not hugging me back until it's inevitably uncomfortable so I take one step back.

His hands are again in fists, at his sides, and his face is contoured as if in pain.

"I'm sorry," I say, even though I'm not quite sure what is wrong with him or if I am somehow responsible for it.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Bella... I-" He stalls, a little groan suppressed in his throat. His hand reaches back, until it finds the wall of the hallway, on which he leans.

"Are you okay?"

"No..." He groans again. "To be honest, I am not." He takes his hat off and pulls at the hair on the back of his head. "Can you get my sister?" he pleads through his teeth.

Oh God, this is bad.

"Will you be okay here?"

"Yes. Please, just go get her."

"Okay." I rush out of the hallway and into the bar.

I think briefly about how he seemed so off when we met earlier tonight. He didn't seem to recognize me at first, only until Alice greeted me. I thought he might have been nervous, maybe having seconds thoughts of doing this with me tonight, but it never crossed my mind that there was something wrong with him.

When Alice sees me her face lights up in a grin. "Bella, that was beautiful!" She embraces me in a hug, which I return briefly.

"Alice, he needs you. Now."

She releases me, and a worried frown appears on her face. She's rushing to the back in the next second.

I follow her, unsure whether my presence will be wanted or not, but too worried about Edward to really care.

Once in the hallway, we find Edward holding himself up on the wall but now his back is to us, with both hands flat on the concrete.

He is slowly, but determinedly, banging his head on the wall.

Alice gets one hand on his back and the other around his arm. "Okay, we have to go," she says, I'm not sure if to him or me.

She rubs her hand on his back and up his neck as we make our way outside. I have no idea what is going on, but he is evidently in pain.

When we get to her car, Alice turns to face me. "Are you coming?"

"Of course," I say without hesitation.

At the sound of my voice, Edward's head snaps up and he turns in my direction, straightening his back and trying to compose his face. "Bella, I'm fine. I just need to go home."

Alice sighs, shaking her head, giving me all the encouragement I need. "I'm coming," I say sternly.

He groans again, and Alice opens the back door for him and helps him in.

"Does that help?" I ask her as she closes his door. "The hand on his back?"

She nods at me, briefly but friendly, before she rounds the car to the front seat. I make my way around the car as well, and sit next to Edward. He has his head rested forward, on the back of the passenger seat's headrest. The groaning is back, and so is the fast breathing.

I tentatively put my hand on his back, and as he doesn't flinch away, I start caressing his back and neck, biting my tongue and all the questions I need to ask.

When Alice makes a right out of College Ave, Edward's head snaps up. "Alice, no!" He almost growls.

"Edward, I'm not leaving you home like this."

"I forgot to take one this morning. That's all."

"Don't bullshit me, brother. You never forget to take one. I'm driving you to Dad's office."

"No!"

"Try and stop me."

A million scenarios go through my head. He forgot to take one what? Pill? How much pain is he in? How long has he been in pain? What is this medication for?

I remember again the first day I met him at his office, for my piano assessment, he was looking for something in his drawer, maybe these pills? He struggled to find his composure for that whole hour while I played and after I left, he called his sister for help.

Puzzled with Edward's situation, I only hope we can get him some help as soon as possible.

~~~o~~~


	11. Kiss

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

We arrive to the hospital, and everyone greets Alice by name, so I'm guessing their father works here. As they rush Edward inside, she gives me a small glance so I stay behind in the waiting area.

I feel so out of place, I start debating whether I should go or not. Luckily, Alice comes out rather quickly.

I get up to meet her, but she sits next to me with a huff, so I sit back down.

"He wants me to drive you home," she states.

"Oh..."

"He's worried that you're here waiting by yourself."

Classic Edward. "Is he okay?"

"He will be. Just waiting for the meds to take effect."

"What happened?"

"He gets... very severe headaches."

"Like migraines?"

"Yeah... something like that."

Migraines. Okay, that's not that bad, except Alice looks like there's definitely something else going on.

"Alice, please, tell me what is it?"

"I can't tell you, he'll never forgive me. He has to tell you himself." She starts walking to the exit doors. "I told you already, he is very stubborn. He refuses to grasps the limitations of his condition, and he doesn't take help kindly." She seems so sad and frustrated, almost on the verge of tears, it makes me wonder what went on in there.

I don't want to add to her worries, and I am certain she'd like to return to her brother. "I can take a cab home, Alice. It's no problem," I say once we are outside.

"Bella, he insisted I drive you myself."

Alice drives me to my dorm, almost in complete silence, while my mind spins and my heart breaks thinking of Edward.

I would have liked to stay and make sure he's okay, but this way I am less of a burden on Alice.

Once in my dorm, Rosalie is not back yet, so I stare at the ceiling and I think... I stare and I think until I lose track of time.

The knock on the door surprises me. Unless Rosalie lost her keys again, I have no idea who it could be.

He leans with a hand on the doorframe. His head snaps up as I open the door. "Bella?"

"Oh my God, Edward, what are you doing here? How-"

"I'm so sorry for ruining your night," he says in almost a whisper. He holds the fedora with his hand on his chest while his other hand runs through his hair.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm better. I didn't even hug you back. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it's okay." I move closer to him, my hand reaching for his over his chest. When our hands meet he breathes out roughly. "Do you want to come inside?"

"I can't be long. My sister should be waiting downstairs. Unless, of course, she didn't listen to me as per usual."

Only then is when I notice the tiny figure across the hall. With a finger over her mouth, Alice signals for me to keep quiet.

"Come on, come sit down for a bit." I hold his hand and guide him inside, closing the door behind us.

Once on my bed, Edward takes another deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. What happened?"

"I get these headaches and they are…" He pauses and takes a deep breath. "They are crippling. This one started mild but it got much worse during our song. At some point, I couldn't really even hear you, and I struggled to keep up."

"I noticed you skipped a beat."

"I'm surprised I even finished the song. I haven't had one this bad in a while."

"The day of my assessment…" I start.

"Yes," he admits. "I couldn't find my pills before you got there and it was already starting to be bad…"

I knew there was something wrong with him that day. Just to think he was literally in pain while I played for a whole hour… "So are they like migraines? Do you know what causes them?"

"Not quite like migraines…" he says avoidingly. "There are many triggers, but I haven't really pinpointed any in particular. It just happens." He shrugs.

"Are you better now?"

"Only a little dizzy from the meds..." His fingers extend to the space between our hands, over the comforter, and when there's contact, he smiles. "...and the stairs."

"I can't believe you showed up here." I link my pinky with his.

"I wanted to return the hug."

"Oh…"

"Could you stay very still?"

The hand over my hand starts moving up, leaving goosebumps on its way to my shoulder. His left hand reaches forward as well until it touches my knee and then finds my other arm. When his right hand meets my neck, I close my eyes with a gasp. The palm of his hand cups my chin and his fingers caress my jaw.

His touching action changes then, becoming less like caressing and more like probing as his fingertips explore my face. He traces my nose and my cheekbones and his smile spreads wider as his thumb rubs over my bottom lip.

He leans closer and closer until he is hugging me, and my arms reciprocate under his.

He breathes out close to my ear and then his nose traces my jaw as he breathes in. I keep my eyes closed, swimming in his scent, until I feel his lips softly peck mine.

A little moan escapes his lips as he deepens the kiss, and my hands find their way to his face, pulling him to me.

All too soon, he breaks the kiss. I'm left out of breath, sitting in front of him, utterly entranced.

"I came here to hug you, and now I have kissed you." A small chuckle escapes his lips. "I think I better go."

"You don't have to." I pout.

"I do." He laughs through his nose. "My sister is probably impatiently waiting for me."

Ah... Right, Alice.

He stands up, putting his hat back on. "Can I call you tomorrow?"

"You better," I say right away, and the smile he rewards me with is breathtaking.

He nods, stepping back and stumbling with my bed. He chuckles adorably, shaking his head, and after a quick "goodbye" he disappears through my door.

~~~o~~~


	12. Blue Dress

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

Between classes, lessons, private lessons, hiking on the weekends and studying my days are more packed than ever before in my life. I've even joined a band as well and the first few rehearsals and practices have gone wonderfully.

I get a cello solo on our first recital. Me! Invisible Swan! By myself, center stage, with my cello.

_How did that ever happen?_

Never in my wildest dreams I thought I'd get there so fast. And I only have Edward to thank.

Edward, who currently sits first row, next to his sister, at my cello solo rehearsal.

After rehearsal, Alice brings Edward backstage, and I walk closer to them. I reach for his hand so that he knows where I am, and he steps closer. His hand trails my arm until it reaches my shoulder and he pulls me to him, kissing the top of my head.

"Bella, that was amazing!" Alice yelps.

"Thanks..." I blush, smiling at her.

"So… since my brother refuses to finally tell you, and I can't have him being rude and inviting you at the last minute, I am afraid your usual hiking date this Saturday will have to be canceled."

Edward groans into my hair, avoiding his sister.

"Cullen brunch. Saturday at noon. You don't want to miss it, Bella. My mom makes killer omelettes."

"Oh…"

"We don't have to go," Edward says to me.

"Edward, you promised mom!"

"Um… I'm…" I peek at Edward uncomfortably. My own insecurities flying to the assumption that he might not want me there at all.

"C'mon, Bella. It'd be fun!"

"Alice, could you give us a second?" Edward says, stepping a bit away from me.

"Ugh… Okay, but don't let him talk you out of it!" She points at me with her finger as she walks away.

"Is she gone?" he asks.

I wait until she's out of sight. "Yes…"

"My sister can be a pain in the ass."

"Yeah… um… if you don't want me to go, that's fine."

"What?"

"I mean-"

"Bella, it's not about that at all. I'm the one who doesn't want to go. My family… they can be a little much, and I... I just don't have the best of relationships with them."

"So you'd want me to go with you?"

"It's the only way I'm going." He smiles sweetly down at me while I exhale in relief. "They want to meet you." He comes closer to me again, both hands on my waist, pulling me to him.

"Oh…" I melt into him.

"My sister talks a lot about you."

"Your sister, huh?"

He chuckles into my hair and moves his hand to my cheek, bringing my chin up so he can kiss me.

We walk to my dorm, hand in hand, while he carries my cello on his back and holds Sam's leash on his other hand.

My brain doesn't stop spinning with the thought of me meeting the Cullens this weekend, but after Edward stumbles a second time, I look up at him, slowing down. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah…" He smiles embarrassingly. "I'm just a little distracted. Makes it hard to focus on each step."

I start wondering whether he is also freaking out about me meeting his parents until he adds, "What you're doing with your thumb… on my palm… It's very distracting."

I hadn't even realized I was running circles with my thumb on his palm! "I'm sorry."

"Trust me, it's more than okay. I just have to get used to it while focusing on everything else."

We continue our walk to the dorms, keeping a slower pace. He kisses me goodbye at the door and never stops smiling.

"Bella, honey, you're even paler than usual!" Rosalie says as soon as I walk through the door. "What is it?"

"So… I'm kind of meeting Edward's family this weekend."

"Awww, he invited you over?"

"Kind of… his sister did." I fall flat on my back on the bed with a sigh.

"Bella, they will love you!"

Doubtful. "They will be able to see me."

"What is that even supposed to mean?"

"Have you looked at Edward? He's… he's… and I'm-" I move my hands aimlessly trying to make up for my lack of words.

There are actually no words to describe Edward — he could be a male model — whereas I… I'm small and chubby in all the wrong places... and I'm awkward and-

"Oh Bella, cut the crap. You are beautiful, dammit! How many times do I have to tell you this? Plus you're sweet, and smart, and considerate... Any parent would be thrilled to have you dating their son!"

I roll my eyes at Rosalie. "What am I even going to wear?"

"We'll find you something classy… sexy, pretty." She gets right to work, flipping through items in her closet.

She pulls a red, low cleavage atrocity. "My boobs are too small for that," I say right away.

Then she pulls a black item, which can only be described as a top and not a dress. "My legs are way too chunky for that."

"Ugh, Bella…" She goes deeper and deeper into the closet. "Ooooh, I know!" Out of the back she pulls a seemingly decent length navy blue dress, the shoulders and chest are made in lace.

"My boobs don't fit in this," she says coming closer. "I bet it looks perfect on you."

"I… I don't know if I can pull that off, Rose."

"Bella, beauty is 90% attitude. We've got this." She sits next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and I sigh. "Honey, you are gorgeous, inside and out." She shakes my shoulders prompting me up. "Even Edward can see that."

She smacks my ass cheek as I get up from the bed. "Alright, let's see how that looks!"

~~~o~~~


	13. The Cullens

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

The Cullens live in what could only be described as a mansion, right on the water, about an hour away from the city. Alice drives us there and Edward holds my hand as we get out of the car. His mother greets me with a friendly hug first, and then she hugs Edward. She smells like flowers and seems very nice. She's short, like Alice and me.

Edward seems at ease with his mother so I start to relax too. I help Alice and Mrs. Cullen set up the breakfast table outside, by the pool and a gorgeous look at the water, while I am interrogated about family and school. Edward stays out in the yard, playing with their two dogs.

Almost after an hour since we've been here, Mr. Cullen arrives. He kisses his wife on the cheek and smiles at me with a nod as Mrs. Cullen tells him who I am. I find Mr. Cullen very intimidating. He carries himself in a way that screams "power" and "money".

Soon enough we sit down to eat. Alice wasn't lying — Mrs' Cullen mushroom-tomatoes omeletts are a feast for the palate! I wish I could have seconds, but I am embarrassed to ask for more.

Chitchat is meaningless while we eat, until his father finally speaks. "So, have you thought about it, son?"

"Thought about what?" Edward tenses next to me.

"What we discussed last week." Mr. Cullen takes a sip from his juice, a calmed grin on his face.

"Dad, not now." Alice drops her fork on her plate.

"I'm sure Bella would agree it's worth a try," Mr. Cullen continues.

I stare at him blankly, having absolutely no clue of what he's talking about. Edward's mother, next to his father, seems to be on the verge of tears.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Edward mutters, but I am not sure whom he is talking to. By the apologetic look on Alice's face, I realize it's her.

"You can't ignore it, Edward. You can't ask us for that either."

"I am not asking you for anything!" He bangs his fist on the table making me jump. "There's no guarantee that it would work or that I would be able to see again. So it would be all for nothing."

My eyes flick from his dad to his mom, to Alice and back to Edward.

_What is this about?_

Is there somehow a chance that he could see again? My heart starts beating faster, half excited - half terrified, with the possibility.

"The headaches would stop. That wouldn't be nothing," his dad adds, calmly.

"I'm okay with this. I'm okay with me." Edward places his hand on his chest for emphasis. "I've made my peace with it, and I've accomplished a somewhat normal, fulfilling life. Why can't you all accept that? Why do you insist on changing me."

"Edward, your condition does not define you." His father seems unaffected by all of this — a complete contrast to everyone else at the table. "You would still be you."

"We've been through so many of these before. You all get excited, then when it doesn't work, I have to deal with the disappointment of still being a burden to you."

"Honey, you're not a burden." His mom finally intercedes, her voice breaking with emotion.

"Do you mind if we go?" His tone is lower, softer, as he turns his head in my direction. His hand reaches for my knee under the table, and I grab it quickly and squeeze it in support.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Cullen… Mr. Cullen." I nod at them as we get up, and I guide Edward around the table and out.

We stand out by the driveway, and I am not sure exactly what it is we should do since Alice drove us here. Edward stands next to me, quiet and still.

"Please, say something," I beg.

Alice walks out of the house and stands next to Edward. "He means well, you know."

"Could you drive us back?"

"Edward…"

"Please?"

Alice sighs, looking at me, and then moves toward the car.

The drive back to campus is mostly silent until we're almost at my dorm.

"Are you staying here or should I drop you home?" Alice asks Edward.

"I'm staying with Bella."

"Should I get Sam or…"

"I'll figure it out, Alice. You've done enough." Edward snaps back.

He is tense and rude, and I've never seen him this way. I try not to interfere since I can walk him home without problems. So I give Alice a knowing look through the rearview mirror, and she nods.

Alice drops us at my dorm, and as soon as she leaves, Edward turns in my direction.

"Would you want to go on a hike with me?" He rushes out, as if he had been waiting a long time to tell me this.

"Right now?"

"Yeah…"

"Um…" I hesitate, looking down at my dress. At least I was able to talk Rose out of the high heals… but hiking on this dress, albeit with flats, wouldn't be comfortable.

"It's okay if you don't feel like it. It's fine." He faces down disappointedly.

"I would love to. It's just that… I'm kind of wearing a dress."

"You are?" His eyebrows shoot up over his glasses in surprise.

"Yeah."

"Oh…"

I realize up to this point he has only touched my arms and my hands, so there's no way he could have known what I was wearing. I can't help but smile at his adorableness. "I could change quickly though, and be right back down."

"Yeah, okay… But-"

"What is it?"

"Can I just…?" His hand extends in front of him, reaching tentatively for me. I move my arm so he can find it. His hand moves up over my arm until it reaches my shoulder and the lace covering it. A little smile appears on his face. His fingers slowly trace my collarbone over the lace. "What color is it?"

"Navy blue." My voice shakes, overwhelmed by his touch.

He exhales through his nose as his hand moves down my arm again, and when it reaches the inside of my elbow, his hand moves to my waist. With both hands around my waist, his fingers play with the softer fabric of the dress. Exhaling again he drops his forehead on the top of my head, hugging me to him.

"Do you still want to go to on that hike?" I whisper, hoping he desists and we just go in my room instead.

"Yes…" He groans, snapping out of it, and taking a step away from me. "There's something I want to talk to you about."

~~~o~~~


	14. Confessions

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

We stop by Edward's place on the way to the park to get Sam. Edward doesn't say much on the way there or on the hike up. He also seems in a rush, which makes him stumble a few times along the way. It's slightly drizzling out so we are both out of breath and completely soaked when we reach the top.

We drink water in silence, and I hold his hand and guide him to our usual rock where we sit.

We sit there for a while, in silence, as the sky clears out and the rain stops.

I give him his time. I know he needs to say something regarding the surgery his father mentioned over brunch — the one that could give him his sight back.

Out of nowhere, he starts: "There's a tumor inside my head. A pituitary gland tumor, to be precise." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "When it started to grow, it pressed on my optic nerve, which is what made me blind."

_Oh my god..._

My heart sinks to my stomach. A million scenarios flash through my head.

_Tumor?_

_Cancer?_

_Is he okay? Is he going to be okay?_

"To top it off, it has another pesky side effect," he continues.

"The headaches?" I ask through a whisper, squeezing his hand out of instinct.

"Precisely."

"Is there any treatment?"

"For the tumor?"

"Yes," I choke out.

"Well, I used to try whatever my dad seemed fit. Some of the treatments worked to stop its growth, but not to reduce its size. It would need to be removed, but the current procedures for it don't have the best stats. The risks outweigh the benefits. Or so we thought..." He shrugs, still facing the view in front of us, while his thumb runs circles in the palm of my hand.

"Could it get worse?"

"Unlikely. It's a benign tumor… so it's not like it's cancer or anything."

_Benign… thank God! _

I breathe out in relief. He is okay. He will be okay. "What about the headaches?"

"I go through phases, but it's really not too bad."

I'm not sure if he is playing it down or not. The headache he had at our open mic night seemed excruciating to me.

There's another couple of silent seconds until I ask, "so is that what your dad was talking about?"

"My dad, the neurosurgeon, has been following this new procedure for a few years now… where they surgically remove tumors like mine, but instead of having to crack your skull open, they go in through the nose. Transsphenoidal endoscopic surgery," he explains. "I guess anything is possible in the new millennium," he adds with a scoff.

"That sounds… scary." I shake my head at the term. Just to think about some kind of tool poking into his brain makes me shudder.

"Not as bad as going through your skull." He tries for a smile, facing me, but it doesn't come out quite right.

"Right, true." I look down at our hands, twisting and untwisting our fingers, the immensity of the situation crashing down on me. I am glad he was comfortable enough sharing this with me, and I am already sure I will support whatever decision he takes regarding this surgery.

I wonder what he would think of me if he could see me. Before my insecurities hit me, he speaks again.

"The thing is, Bella, I've been blind for almost ten years. I'm okay with it. Plus there's no guarantee it will work. They could remove the whole tumor and my optic nerves could still be damaged enough to keep me blind. My family and I…" he takes a deep breath. "We've gone through this, so many times! I'm just tired of disappointing them every time it doesn't work."

I can see it in him — the resolve. He won't have this surgery.

"What if it does work this time?"

"Bella…" he gets up suddenly, leaving my hand and my side. He stands in front of me while his hands turn the water bottle around nervously. "I wanted you to know because… I mean, you're the only person besides my family who knows about this. I… I know we've been spending a lot of time together, and, to be honest, my time with you is the highlight of my days. But this is what I am, Bella, and I can't be fixed. I just… I just wanted you to know..."

He runs a hand through his hair, which is still damp, and faces down, to the bottle and his feet. His eyebrows scrunch over his glasses and he opens his mouth a couple times — as if he was going to say something else — but then closes it, exhaling through his nose.

He looks so troubled and shaken from what he just shared with me, all I want to do is get my arms around him and comfort him.

"Hey," I whisper, getting up and standing right in front of him. My hand cups his face and I pull his face down to me. "You don't need any fixing, okay?"

"I can't have you wanting to change me too," he pleads.

On an impulse, my fingers grab a hold of his sunglasses. I pause, tentatively, waiting to see if he would stop me.

He doesn't.

I don't know what exactly I expected his eyes to look like, but it was definitely not the deep emerald green that stuns me in place. His eyes look completely normal, stunningly beautiful even, except they seem lost as they are not focused on me or anything in particular.

"I don't want to change you," I say pulling him even closer. "I don't," I say again, before our lips meet.

He is unresponsive at first, but then his hands find my waist and he reciprocates, letting go of his worries and losing himself in me.

~~~o~~~


	15. Breakfast

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

Edward's apartment is dark as we come in, and he doesn't bother to turn on the lights. As soon as he closes the door his lips are on mine, his hands are cupping my face, and his breath is coming roughly out of his nose.

He walks backwards into his living room, without letting go of me. His lips never stop as he takes us to his room. His back bumps into a door that opens to his bedroom, and he turns me around. The back of my knees touches what feels like the edge of his bed.

My hands start working on their own and I rid him of his shirt. I can only barely make his silhouette in the darkness, so my hands trail over every exposed part of him until I reach his pants, which hang low on his hips.

He exhales roughly as I hover, not finding the bravery in me to unbutton him. His hands meet mine and then his fingers trace over my arms to my shoulders and behind my back, where he finds the hem of my shirt and pulls it up.

Instinctively, my arms cover my stomach, and I freak out. He might not be able to see me but he'll be able to feel the softness of my stomach with his hands.

My insecurities don't get a chance to consume me, though, since his fingers start working the clasp of my bra.

_Oh my god._

When my bra joins my shirt on the floor, I freeze.

"Is this okay?" Edward asks sweetly, his hands cupping my face while he exhales through his nose.

I only manage to nod.

"Bella, don't just nod, tell me."

"Yes," I choke out. "This is okay."

His fingers work his way down my neck onto my exposed shoulders and pause at my collarbone, where they spend some time tracing the length of it.

I feel like I could spontaneously combust.

No one has ever touched me like this — with this care, with this passion.

As if he was following directions on a map, his fingers trail down to my breasts, and I whimper.

"Your skin is so soft," he whispers, kissing my neck and sending electric shocks down to my midsection.

In a swift move, he takes my arms and wraps them around his neck. Next thing I know, he's on top of me as I lie flat on his bed.

His glasses keep bumping into my skin, so I take them off, seeing as this was fine before.

"Thanks," he whispers between kisses that make me curl my toes.

He continues to kiss every inch of my exposed skin, making me moan as he reaches the area around my belly button.

"Bella, I need to touch you." His fingers tentatively trace the edge of my yoga pants. "All of you."

"O-Okay..."

~~~o~~~

Now that the light is shining through the windows I can take in more of my surroundings. His place is impeccably clean and organized — everything is perfectly aligned.

I find Edward in the kitchen, without his shirt on, his back to me.

On my next step, the wooden floor creaks and he snaps his head around.

His hair is a chaotic mess of coppery threads that shine in the light coming in through the window.

I notice he isn't wearing his glasses and I can finally appreciate his whole features as he smiles. "Bella…"

"Good morning," I say, subconsciously pulling on the hem of his shirt, which covers me down to mid thighs.

"I hope you like eggs."

That's when I notice the two plates set in the breakfast bar. Scrambled eggs and toast, two glasses of orange juice, and a stick of butter that sits in between our plates.

My stomach grumbles. "I love eggs."

He waves with his hand toward the plates as he goes back to the dishes he was doing. I notice how he sets the soap down, and then drags it to a particular spot; next to it, he aligns the sponge.

"This looks great. Thank you so much." I sit on one of the stools, facing my dish. The eggs are perfectly cooked. The toast lightly brown. I spread some butter on it, amazed at how he is able to do all of this.

"My pleasure," he says, coming around the bar and sitting on the stool next to me. He faces my direction, his eyes bright and green, looking somewhere over my shoulder.

"You're not wearing your glasses."

"I know. I'm sorry. Is it weird?"

"It's not. Your eyes are beautiful." I can feel myself blushing, but I don't care.

"I couldn't find my glasses this morning. As you can probably see, I have to have some kind of system so that I always remember where everything is. It's not like I have OCD or anything…" He chuckles. "But I guess I wasn't responsible for my glasses last night." He smiles, deviously, inching closer to me.

"I'm sorry." I remember throwing them somewhere over my head last night. "Do you want me to find them for you?"

"I don't need them, unless it bothers you."

"It doesn't." I reach for his arm, trailing my fingers over his bicep. His whole torso is lean and defined, not overly bulky, just as I pictured it from running my fingers all over him last night. I blush again at the thought.

He has freckles on his arms, all the way down to his elbows. I lose all train of thought, just tracing his freckles, until he clears his throat.

"Um… shall we eat?"

"Yes, yes, sorry!"

So we eat, and we chat, and I ask a thousand questions about his living conditions and his independence. I try not to think too much about the surgery, and his decision not to have it. He doesn't need another person in his life telling him what he should do, so I don't bring it up.

With the weight of the surgery and his secret relieved from over us, I can feel him relaxing too. He plays guitar for me in bed — in between other things — and we spend all Sunday together like this, getting to know each other more and more, exploring our bodies and our tastes, relishing in each other.

~~~o~~~


	16. Promises

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

"I brought you something," Edward says as he comes in. Earlier he had asked if he could stop by between lessons.

He hands me what looks like a gift-wrapped CD case. As I open it, my mouth hangs open.

"Oh My God!"

"Do you have it already?"

"No, but I've been meaning to get it!"

He smiles proudly. "So you know about her."

"Maya Baiser? Please, I love her!" I hold her CD close to my chest.

He smiles wider. "Do you know she is performing next weekend, not too far from here."

"She is." I knew about this. I can't afford to go which is why I was going to just get the CD.

"I was thinking maybe we could go? You could wear that dress again…" He clears his throat. "...and tell me this time." He is blushing crimson red, and it's the most endearing sight I have ever seen.

"I…"

"Would you like to go?" He asks adorably, pulling two tickets out of his back pocket.

_Oh my God..._

The air comes out of his lips in a huff as I run into him, but it's quickly sealed inside by my lips on him. "I would love to!"

"God, Bella…" He wraps his arms around me and lifts me up. "I have another lesson in 20 minutes," he whispers between kisses.

"I can work with that…" I say into his mouth as I start kissing him again, wrapping my legs around his waist.

~~~o~~~

Not even five minutes have gone by since Edward left when there's a knock at my door.

"It's open!" I say, thinking it's him again, while I finish putting myself together.

"Bella?"

I turn around confused at the sound her voice; my hands are still under my shirt, clasping my bra back on.

"Oh, Alice, hi…" I can feel my ears starting to burn in embarrassment while my hands frantically try to get my hair to cooperate.

"Um, is this a bad time?" she asks from the door.

"No… no. It's fine. Is everything okay?"

Alice sighs, coming in. "So he's not having the surgery?" She sets her bag on my desk before she turns to stare pointedly at me.

Relieved to know that's the purpose to her unexpected visit, I relax. "I don't think so…"

"Why not?"

"I think he was pretty clear already."

Edward and I haven't really talked about the surgery any more. He seemed content with me supporting the decision of not having it. I assume we will get to talk more about it at some point, but I wasn't going to be the one to bring it up.

"How could he pass on this? I don't get it. I thought you…" Alice trails off, one hand scratching her forehead. "I thought that, with you, he would realize everything he's missing."

"It'd be horrible if I made him feel that way!"

"You know what I mean."

"No, Alice, as a matter of fact, I don't." I start feeling a bit defensive at Alice's insinuations.

"You just don't understand, do you?"

I cross my arms in front of my chest and let her go on.

"As independent as he seems, Bella, he takes a risk, every single day, by living by himself. There are so many things that could happen to him! You think I don't go crazy with just the thought? He has pushed my parents away because of their overprotection, but I've managed to stay close… mostly because I do most things behind his back..." she confesses.

"What kinds of things?"

"Bella, I am _always_ around… I check that he hasn't misbuttoned his shirt, that he doesn't cut shaving, that he makes it to work unscathed, that he catches the right bus…"

The implications of what Alice is saying hit me quickly, and I start analyzing in my head every moment I've spent alone with Edward, thinking whether she has been there somehow, somewhere, watching us...

"That's crazy, Alice! So you just follow him around everyday all day?"

"No, of course not! But a lot of times I do; unless he's with someone I trust…" She looks up at me briefly, apologetically almost. "But when he's by himself, I follow him, at least until he gets to work, and then in the afternoon when he goes back..."

I don't know if I should feel amazed at Alice's dedication and concern for her brother's well-being or be weirded out by it. I guess it's a combination of both sentiments. "And has he really needed you?"

"Yes, Bella! Many times. Which is also why I don't feel comfortable with you guys going all the way across town to this cellist concert…"

"You know about that already?"

"Yes. It's not an area he is familiar with, Bella," she adds with a worrisome tone.

"We will take a cab there and back."

"He's not even planning to take Sam with him!"

"We will be okay…"

"I don't know, Bella. I don't have a good feeling about it."

"Alice, Edward tries really hard to live this independent and as-close-to-normal-as-possible life of his. I think we should give him more credit."

"Bella, this surgery could cure him of his blindness and headaches completely! He wouldn't have to try so hard!" I can see Alice's emotions bubbling right in her eyes. I can't even begin to comprehend what having gone through this with him must have been like for his family.

"Hey..." I come closer to her, set a hand on her shoulder. "I know that. But I also see his point. I can see it in you right now, how much you want him to not be blind. After going through so much, and having to adapt to his new reality, I can see why getting everyone excited about the surgery with the slightest possibility of it not working must be a huge weight on him."

"It _will_ work." She states, wiping a few tears that escape her eyes.

"Alice, you don't know that…"

"Would you just talk to him, please?"

"Alice…" I sigh.

"Please, just… just get him to talk about it."

"I don't know."

"He'll be able to see that the odds are good, and then maybe…" She grabs my hand. "Bella, he is crazy about you. I think if there's anyone who can get through to him is you. From the first time I saw you, I knew… I knew you were the one who would change his mind."

"I… I'll think about it." I give in.

Her arms go around me instantly as she whispers "Thank you!"

Alice leaves and I drop flat on my bed and stare at the ceiling, pondering whether I should bring this up to Edward or not. I know he needs me to support his decision, and I don't want him to feel that I want to change him too, but if the odds of this surgery are as good as Alice seems to predict, how could he let this opportunity escape?

~~~o~~~


	17. The Concert

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

I wear the navy blue lace dress to the concert, and Edward spends most of the cab ride tracing his fingers over it — over my shoulders, behind my neck…

"Your hair is up," he states, a smile spreading on his face.

"Mmmhmm," I manage to say.

I haven't been very coherent since he showed up at my door in a suit — a dark navy blue suit — with his fedora and Raybans in place. I can't tell whether he is wearing suspenders or not, but I make a promise to myself that I will find out.

I hold on to Edward's arm as we cruise through the crowd and find our way inside the theater and to our seats. We have amazing seats, even though he probably does not need them. We would be able to hear this pretty well from everywhere inside the theater.

He holds my hand through the whole thing, and I find myself looking more at him than at the performer. How he reacts to the music. How his face changes with the tunes. He seems to really be enjoying himself.

I don't find the courage in me to bring up the topic of his surgery. Not on a special night like this.

As it turns out, I never get to.

When we walk outside of the theater, we manage to get a bit away from the crowds, and he wraps his arm around me.

"Are you cold?"

"Not really."

"Could we walk a couple blocks? I want to get away from the crowd."

His suggestion triggers a little warning inside my head. "Um… we could catch our cab here."

"Just a couple blocks," he insists.

I lead the way, since I know he's not familiar with the area. A block away from the theater, the streets seem already desolated, but he doesn't want to stop. He says he can still hear them.

I look around us, a bit paranoid, the warning voice taking more of an Alice tone reminding me how she didn't have a good feeling about our "adventurous" date.

Edward stands in front of me, not really sensing my fear. "Bella, these pasts few months have been incredible…" he starts, nothing but excitement lighting his face.

"Edward-" I spot three dark shadows from people coming from the other end of the alley in our direction, so I move closer to him, getting ready to flee.

Edward does not sense my concern and fishes for something inside his jacket's pocket. "I've never felt as at peace with myself as I do with you. I have no fears. No second thoughts. No doubts. I can just be me. I know there's not much I can get you to symbolize this, but I still just wanted to get you something."

I get distracted momentarily by his words and the dark velvet box that rests on his hand. In it, a shiny silver bracelet, with a cello charm clasped to it.

I don't get to grab it though, as the three guys who were coming from the alley catch up with us.

"Well, what do we have here?" One of them says, circling me. The other stays next to me while the last one stands behind Edward.

"There's three of them," I whisper to Edward. "We're surrounded."

Edward finally tenses, his eyebrows scrunching as he takes in the situation. He quickly snaps the case close and puts it back in his jacket's pocket.

"Hey, fedora, hands where I can see them!" The guy says pulling a gun out of his back.

"Oh my God. Edward, he has a gun!" I describe so he is aware. Edward's head snaps from one side to the other following the sounds around him.

I can't even imagine what is going through his head. I don't get to say anything more as the guy behind me covers my mouth with one hand and points a gun in my back with the other.

"Jackpot!" the guy next to Edward calls, realizing he is blind, while waving another gun in front of his face. At his voice, Edward's arm swings forward, trying to catch the guy, but he misses, and the asshole laughs.

Edward swings his arm once more and the guy ducks, punching Edward square in his stomach, knocking the air out of him and leaving him bent over.

Tears spill from my eyes as the guy behind Edward twists his arm backwards, bending his wrist, making him grunt in pain. When a sob escapes through from the hand covering my mouth, Edward's head snaps up.

"Take anything you want, but don't touch her," he chokes out.

The guy who punched him reaches inside his jacket until he finds the box with the bracelet. Then he takes Edward's wallet and yanks away my purse.

At the sound of screeching tires coming our way, the three guys freeze, but before they flee, the one behind Edward smacks him square in the back of his head.

Edward falls forward in his hands and knees as his hat flies off of his head. As soon as I'm released, I kneel in front of him. "Edward, are you okay?!"

"Did they hurt you?" he grunts through his teeth, trying to catch his breath.

"No, they didn't." I reach for him, bring his head to my chest, when I notice the blood on my hand.

Oh God, he is bleeding.

He moans into my chest as I hold him. "It's going to be okay," I say as I see a tiny figure coming out of the car that just scared the three guys away.

"What the hell happened?!"

I've never been happier of Alice's stalker tendencies.

"Alice!" my voice shakes through sobs. "Three guys… they attacked us… robbed us. They hit Edward in the head. He is bleeding."

Alice is right on her phone, calling 911.

~~~o~~~


	18. Canon

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

The paramedics say Edward needs to be taken to the hospital, but only for a few stitches and to check for a concussion. They don't let me ride in the ambulance with him, so I'm stuck with Alice.

"I knew something was going to happen!" She bangs her hand on the steering wheel.

"I'm sorry, they came out of nowhere. Edward wanted to step away from the crowd and I just thought-"

"This is exactly the kind of thing I was telling you about, Bella. What I am always afraid could happen!"

"I'm so sorry, Alice." My tears start spilling from my eyes again and I wipe at them angrily.

"Hey, hey," she says turning her gaze away from the road and to me. "It wasn't your fault, Bella." She sets a hand on my knee and rubs on it softly.

"I thought you'd be mad at me."

"I am. I'm mad at you for driving him crazy. I'm mad at him for insisting on going there. I'm mad at myself for not getting there sooner… but what happened tonight was not your fault, Bella."

"You think he will be okay?"

"He will be, yeah…" she says reassuringly. "He's just not going to be very happy with himself for a while…"

Saying Edward was not going to be happy with himself was a major understatement.

When they let us see him after he's been all stitched up and cleared of a concussion, they give him some pain meds since the hit ensured a pretty awful headache. He doesn't seem like he wants to talk to anyone — only answers with yes or no.

He barely says anything to me...

Alice offers to drive me home and says she'll stay with him. When I kiss him goodnight he responds rather forcefully.

I keep hoping that it's just that he might be uncomfortable or in pain, but I text him that night and the day after but get nothing from him.

By the time he shows up at my door two days later, the relief I feel by seeing him is quickly replaced by utter fear. Once I take a look at the expression on his face, I realize something is very wrong.

"Bella?" He stands at my door, stoic, fedora in hand at his chest. Sam is with him, sitting by his side.

"Hi," is my lame response.

"Would you take a walk with me?" He moves away from the door, gesturing to the hallway.

"Okay…" I agree even though my brain screams at me: _no, no, no, no…_

He doesn't hold my hand, nor does he say much on the way to the park. Instead his arm hangs by his side, his hand in a tight fist.

He stops at the park entrance, where we used to hike, but instead of taking our usual trail; he guides us toward the camping area where he stops by a bench.

He seems indecisive all of the sudden, like he doesn't know where to start.

I don't know if I should sit, or wait for him. A few silent seconds go by and my stomach sinks.

This is not good. _Not good..._

"Bella, I am leaving," is what he says first.

"W-What do you mean?"

"I'm going to be gone for a while... I don't know how long." I know very well that he can't see me, but he usually faces in my direction, somehow connecting with me. Today he just faces down, reciting the words that he probably practiced on the way here, not wanting to keep any connection with me.

"Where are you going? What's going on?"

"I'm taking a leave of absence from work. You can continue your lessons with the new instructor if you wish, but I don't really think you need them anymore." His tone is devoid of any emotion.

"Edward..." I try to grab his hand but he steps back.

"Please, I can't… we can't. I'm sorry." His face contours for a fraction of a second but he recovers quickly. "Bottom line is: I don't think we should be together anymore. I think you should move on with your life. You've made so much progress already, you should be able to enjoy your years in school at the fullest without me dragging you down."

"Dragging me down? What are you even saying?! Is this because of what happened Saturday?

"Among other things, yes."

"Edward, it could have happened to anyone." My voice breaks as my eyes fill with tears.

"Anyone normal would have been able to protect you."

"Against three guys? Give yourself a break, please!"

"I've made my decision, Bella. I'm leaving."

"Where are you even going? Edward, please!" I grab his hand and pull him to me. I bury my face in his chest and his shirt quickly moistens with my tears.

I could swear the whimper that I hear comes from Sam and not from me, but maybe it came from both of us.

"I'm sorry I let this go on for so long." He kisses my forehead and then he is gone.

~~~o~~~

A/N: Sorry :(


	19. Gone

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

"Bella, it's been a week," Rose says as she comes in the room, turning on the lights. "That's as much wallowing as I can take."

"I'm not wallowing."

She walks to the windows and opens up the blinds. "Can we at least play some music that include people singing?"

My only response is a groan, as I turn around in bed and cover my head with my pillow. The peace and quiet does not last long, as she switches off my Maya Beiser CD, and turns on the radio instead.

N'sync's "Gone" comes up. "Are you serious?!" She fusses with the buttons of the radio until she turns it off altogether. "Jessica said you didn't show up to your cello rehearsal." Rosalie pulls the pillow from me, giving me a stern look.

"I just want to be alone, Rose."

"Alright, that's it. I'm not going to let you throw away everything you accomplished this semester!" In one swift move, my comforter is also on the floor by the pillow. "Get up."

"Rose!"

"No boy is worth you missing class and rehearsal. Furthermore, absolutely nothing justifies that greasy hair!"

"Edward isn't just a boy…" I sit up on the bed reluctantly and fix my ponytail.

"He also isn't the only reason you accomplished all of those things, Bella," she says sitting next to me. "Who stood there and sang in front of everyone? Who got herself a cello solo on your first ever concert? That wasn't Edward, that was all you!"

"Yeah but…"

"No buts! Okay, he gave you a little push — a little, um, inspiration — but just because he is gone doesn't mean all that greatness inside of you goes back to hiding!"

My eyes water as I look up at Rosalie. Slowly the sadness is replaced by anger, at him, at myself. I can't believe I've sat here and wasted all of this time wallowing for someone who ran away from me so easily. Classes, rehearsals, everything flashes through my brain, and a surge of determination seeps through me.

"You are so right!" I get up in a rush and Rosalie smiles broadly at me.

"Okay, I have a date with Prof. MacFuckHotCarty…" She puts on lipstick and smacks her lips together. "Can I trust you to shower and look alive when I get back?"

I roll my eyes at her, grabbing my towel and my shower caddy.

~~~o~~~

My hair is still in a towel when there's a soft knock on the door. My stomach flutters because I know it's not Rosalie. She never misses Prof. MacCarty's class.

I guess old habits die hard...

"Alice?" I don't make an effort to hide my confusion. I haven't seen her or heard from her since Edward left.

"Hi, Bella." She comes in and I close the door behind her. "Sorry to drop by unannounced… I just wanted to... um… see how you were doing?"

"I'm doing just fine, thanks." I cross my arms over my chest defensively, trying to stand my ground — strong, like I deserve to be.

"I'm very sorry about all this." Her face crumples, pulling at my resolve.

"You know what? You can tell your brother he doesn't have to send you to watch over me, I'm doing fine on my own."

"You think Edward sent me here?" Her voice is small, very uncharacteristic of her.

"Why else would you be here?"

"Bella, I haven't seen or talked to my brother since he left. He left my mother a message. One lousy message! Saying he needed to be away for a while, that he had all the help he needed, and that we should not worry about him."

"Where did he go?"

"We don't know!"

_He left his family too?_

Strings of guilt pull at my heart. Maybe I've been selfish making this all about me, neglecting to wonder what made him leave in reality. What it must have been for him to also leave his family out of it too.

The rest of my resolve disappears and I sink on my bed. "I can't believe he just left like that."

"My brother is very difficult, Bella. He's stubborn and determined. I really thought that with you… that he'd change his mind. I can't believe he pushed you away too."

"I think we both over estimated how he felt about me."

"Bella, he was absolutely crazy about you. I had never seen him that way. That doesn't go away over-night."

"Tell me about it."

We both sigh at the same time.

"Do you think he's okay?" I turn to her

"I don't know."

"Do you think he'll come back?"

She sighs again. "Have you contacted him at all?"

"I've tried… different sources," I say evasively — I don't want to go into embarrassing details. "But to no avail."

"Same." Alice seems as lost as I feel. "I'm sure he'll come back… I just don't know when."

When Alice leaves, I don't feel as determined as before, but I still head over to class.

I just hope he's okay.

~~~o~~~


	20. Just Kiss Him

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I only own my mistakes.

~~~o~~~

I take deep breaths and wipe my sweaty palms on my dress over and over again. We are each wearing our own thing, but the whole band is matching in black and white. Rosalie helped me pick my dress in black with the top made out of lace and a skirt that flows over my legs.

The curtains are still down, but I can hear the murmurs of the crowd outside. I take a look around me and smile shyly at the rest of the band members. Three violinists sit behind me with the wind instrument guys behind them, an upright bass to my right, and percussions on my left.

I sit right in the middle with my cello between my legs, and take one last deep and soothing breath before they signal we are about to start.

As soon as the music consumes me, I'm not nervous anymore. Granted, I keep my eyes closed for most of my solo. But at the end, I get through it and I can't contain the smile when it's over and people are standing on their feet clapping for us.

After the blinding spotlight subsides, I first see Charlie, crying, first row. I give him a little wave and a smile, but my smile disappears as soon as I see who is standing a couple seats to his right.

It's Alice.

And next to her, Edward.

My heart beats faster in my chest and I feel like I could throw up.

_He's back. He's here. He came back and he came to my concert._

He is wearing a dark suit and his ray-bans, but no fedora. Hi hair is lightly gelled and in that perfect disarray that still turns my knees into goo.

He is still standing, clapping and smiling right in my direction.

I look down out of instinct, unable to face him, until I'm rushed backstage by the other band members.

I take as long as I can collecting my things until I am the only one left. Then I just sit backstage, fidgeting, dreading to go out.

_He's back. What does that mean?_

When there's a knock, I look up tentatively. He stands at the door — Flowers in one hand, ray-bans on — smiling.

"Bella…"

I hold my breath. Maybe if I don't breathe he won't know I'm here.

"Bella, you were absolutely magnificent. Congratulations!" He holds the flowers in front for me.

I don't even know what I would say if I was able to speak. He holds his smile and the flowers in place for a while, until his hand reaches for his glasses, and then he slowly removes them from his face.

His eyes are the beautiful deep green I remembered so clearly, but there's something different... They're bright and they're focused.

Right on me.

His pupils shrink as they take in the light, and they switch from my eyes to random spots on my face, to my lips, to my eyes again.

It all becomes clear then.

"C-can… can you see me?" My voice is barely a whisper.

He nods, coming a little closer. "I am so sorry about how I left, Bella. Can you forgive me?"

When his eyes water, I lose it.

He had the surgery. By himself. He didn't tell anyone. He pushed me away, and now he's back.

"My dad," I start, getting up, but I'm unable to finish the sentence.

"What?"

"My dad is waiting for me. For dinner. I have to go."

"Bella…" His hand finds my arm, and his fingers close around my elbow.

"I have to go," I say again, a little louder this time, avoiding his eyes.

He releases me with a sigh and now it's my time to storm out.

~~~o~~~

Dinner with dad goes in a blur, all I can think about it's Edward.

All I know it's that he's back. And he had his surgery. And he can see now.

He can see.

_He can see me._

He said he was sorry for leaving, and that he wanted my forgiveness. Does he still want us to be together?

Do I still want that?

I don't get to dwell on it overnight though because, sitting at the front steps of my dorm, Edward is waiting for me. I know it's him even with his head is down. I don't know if it's the flowers next to him or the fedora I already recognize what gives him away.

"Edward?"

His head snaps up and he gets up in a flash. He isn't wearing his ray-bans anymore. Not that he would need them since it's dark.

"Bella, you're here," he says with a shy smile. I know it doesn't make any sense, but all I want are my arms around him. "Can we talk?"

I manage a nod, and his words follow in a rush.

"After the night we got robbed, I knew it in me. I had to try. For you. For me. I've never felt so useless, so helpless, so _disabled_ in my whole blind life than that night, Bella. Just the thought of them hurting you and me just standing there useless… I…" He pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

I can see how the memory hurts him, so I step closer, uncertain whether I could touch him or not. Afraid of what it may do to me.

He takes a deep breath and continues. "I hope you'll be able to understand that I had to do this on my own though. I couldn't bear the thought of putting you or my family or anyone I care about through it. I didn't know if it was going to work…"

"But it did…"

"It did." He smiles proudly.

"You can see fine now."

"I'm wearing contacts for a little help, but yes. I don't have 20/20 vision yet, but it's getting better every week."

"Wow…"

He takes a step closer to me. "I'm really sorry I left the way I did. After everything we shared you deserved better from me, but it's the only way I could have managed leaving. I'm so sorry."

My eyes lock on his and I feel the tears starting to build up. He takes one more step in my direction and his hand reaches for my cheek.

"I'm here now and if you take me back I'm not going anywhere unless it's with you."

"You still want me?" The thought leaves my lips before I even realize it.

"Bella..." His tone changes to one bordering on anger. His fingers push under my chin making me look at him. "I've never wanted anyone so bad in my life. You are stunningly beautiful. Even more than I could have ever imagined. But I knew that already, before I could actually see you."

A strangled mumble escapes my lips because what do you exactly reply to such words. My legs feel like jelly and I am relieved when he holds my arm with his hand.

"Please say something," he begs.

Then I just kiss him. I kiss him as if he belongs to me. I kiss him entirely because he does, just as much as I belong to him. I kiss him without restraints, without worries, without doubt.

I just kiss him.

~~~o~~~

Long ass A/N:

Thank you so much for everyone who read/reviewed/enjoyed my little story. Blindward was the first twific I wrote/drafted ever, but other plot bunnies kept getting in the way. I'm so happy to have it out here and completed. I'm sorry I dropped the ball toward the end and couldn't post weekly as I wanted. Even though the story was completely written when I started posting, I had no beta and no pre-reader (and also I am now 8 months pregnant!) so it got difficult at times. Anyways, thanks for sticking with me! mwah!

In case you want to see where I got my inspiration for the characters: bit . ly /1fRnX8p (remove spaces).

And this is the kind of music I have in my head of Edward and Bella doing together: bit . ly /1JGZlvb (remove spaces).

Ps (only read if you care about the science behind this story):

Some of you noticed how this was set in the early 2000s. This is when transsphenoidal surgeries of pituitary tumors became more broadly available. In case I have any med-geeks like myself reading this: Edward's tumor was a benign, non-secretory one, so he didn't have any hormonal problems, but the tumor's size and location was what was causing his vision problems. For the record, after a successful surgery some improvement in vision field is observed right away (2 weeks to a month) BUT it can take up to 5 years for the patient to completely gain his/her sight back (Only 35% of them do). I was obviously not going to make Bella wait that long, so I took a little liberty with that. Hope you forgive me!


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